


Special Kinda Woman

by TheDevilInHerself



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Slow Burn, heart ache
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-08 08:55:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 26,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11078250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDevilInHerself/pseuds/TheDevilInHerself
Summary: It's not easy to care for a man with a gypsy soul. How long can a woman wait for a man that was born for leaving.





	1. Chapter 1

You sat across from him, the noise of the diner buzzing around you as you focused in on his words.

“What do you mean you're leaving?” You asked, pushing the half eaten burger away from you, sitting up straighter as your brows knitted together in concern.

“Just what I said. I'm getting out of here and I'm never coming back.” the boy grinned, bits of food falling from his mouth as he talked. 

“This is your home, Jesse. Where do you think you'll go?” you asked incredulously, slightly annoyed at how casual he was being about this. But then again, that was Jesse, he never took anything seriously. Not school, not the law, not even his own life. 

“No, darling. This is your home. I just live here. Sides, I'm joining the Deadlock gang. So I'll be going wherever they go.”

“The Deadlock gang!” Slamming your palm down on the table, you leaned in closer to the boy, not believing the words he was just throwing out. “Jesse, are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“You act like I can't handle myself.” He scoffed, shooting you a disgruntled look before stuffing more french fries into his mouth. “Besides, they heard about what a great shot I am and wanted me to join them. They at least appreciate my talents, which is more then I can say for anyone in this shit stained town.” You knew better then anyone else just how talented Jesse was. How many evenings had you spent watching him shoot bottles you had collected off of fences. How many times had you snuck bullets from your fathers stash to help keep him supplied. How many times had you marveled at his ability to dead eye birds while performing trick shots. You knew he was good. Many times you had tried to talk him into joining the military when he was old enough, knowing he could excel, but the fifteen year old had a real problem with authority. Always had.

“Jesse, they are criminals! You could get arrested for helping them, or killed.” The boy just rolled his eyes, brushing off your concerns.

“I haven't been caught yet.” his smile was arrogant, as always. 

“This isn't just some petty theft or underage drinking. This is weapons trafficking. Do you understand how serious that is.”

“You worry too much.” Jesse laughs, his bright smile leaving an ache in your heart. You regarded you best friend in despair. You knew when Jesse had made his mind up about something he was too far gone for you to talk him out of it. 

“Jesse, please.” your eyes became glossy with tears, fighting off the inevitable as you begged. “Don't leave.” finishing off his burger, he stood up from the booth, chuckling at your expression as he walked around the table to you.

“A man's got to make a name for himself.” leaning one knee on the booth seat, he rested his hand on the table in front of you as he hovered over you. “This time next year, everyone around these parts will know my name.”

His lips met yours. It was a short kiss, brief and barely felt, but then, they always were. This was Jesse's signature, at least with you. A goodbye kiss. You knew it meant nothing, there was no feeling behind it. He had done it ever since you were kids, starting out as something innocent, and then developing into a show of possession as you got older. Growing up best friends, he'd developed the habit to dissuade other boys from approaching you. He was too arrogant and hot tempered to share you with others. He was only further cemented in his ritual when you had reached your teens. Your mother had never liked you hanging out with him, and he loved the way the act got under her skin. 

As you watched him walk out of the diner, never looking back, never sparing you a second glance, you couldn't help the tears that fell freely, the whole world lost to you as you saw Jesse McCree disappear through those doors for the last time.


	2. The Barn

Pulling your jacket up tight around you, you trudged through the large field, shivering at the chill of the night. Clouds blocked out the light of the moon, coating the land in thick darkness, but you knew your way. It was a path you had traveled all too often and on worse nights then this. In your hand you clutched a single bullet, holding it close as you crunched through the foliage. You had found it on the windowsill in your room, sitting in the same place you always found it. You knew what it meant all too well. Come find me. 

Ever since you were little, Jesse would use this as his way of saying he wanted to meet up. You recalled all the nights you would sneak out, meeting up with your friend in the dead of night when he was bored or lonely or just wanted to avoid home. Such a silly thing, yet so like Jesse.

It had been over a year since he had left your home town, and you hadn't heart a thing from him, or about him for that matter. So many nights you had checked for that bullet, sure he would return to see you, but he hadn't. Now, after all this time, it wasn't joy that consumed you as you waded your way through the tall brushes, it was concern. In your mind you saw him, bloody and beaten, wounded in some great brawl, needing you to nurse him back to health. You had always been the one to patch him back up when he got in over his head. The boy had a mouth on him that never knew when to quit. If he had reached out to you now, he must really be in trouble. You had to help him. 

As you reached the old dilapidated barn that served as Jesse's hideout, you felt a small warmth grow inside you. The worn wood, the flaking paint, the slight lean and broken windows, you may have changed, but it never did. Tugging the old heavy door open, barely making a gap wide enough to slip through, you pictured Jesse hunched over on the other side, face swollen and purple from some stronger man's fist, giving you a weak but cocky smile as he made up some fib about being horribly outnumbered. But upon entering, you saw no such sight. There was a small fire in a dug out pit in the center of the barn floor, but no Jesse. As you walked closer to the fire, grateful for its warmth, you noticed all the empty bottles scattered across the dirt floor. Most were old, but some looked new.

“Hey there, darlin'.” you jumped as two strong arms wrapped around you, the boy behind you resting his chin on top of your head as he pulled you back into his chest. You smelled him before you saw him, the pungent odor of alcohol and filth assaulting your senses as you wrinkled your nose in disgust. 

“Jesse, don't scare me like that.” you chastised, smacking his arm as you felt a chuckle reverberate through his chest. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't missed that sound.

“Still scared of the dark, huh?” he teased, letting go of you as he went to sit by the fire. 

“I haven't been scared of the dark since I was nine and you know it. You're the one- What are you wearing.” The boy gave you a toothy grin as you noticed the large brimmed hat he wore.

“Isn't it cool. I picked it up down around the Mexican boarder. Now I'm a proper gunslinger.” he beamed with pride at his purchase, the rosiness of his cheeks showing bright in the firelight.

“You always were a little too into those old Clint Eastwood movies.” you teased, pushing the hat down over his face. 

“Hey, don't bend it.” he protested, swatting blindly at your hands. You giggled, a sound you hadn't made nearly enough in the last year. Straightening his hat, Jesse glared at you with unfocused eyes before they began to light up, a sure sign of mischief.

“I forgot. Check it out!” Holding out his left arm, he rolled up his sleeve, revealing a large black tattoo on his forearm. It was a scull with wings and a lock, the words Deadlock Rebels above and below the image in bold font. Your stomach dropped at the sight. 

“Jesse... why?” unhindered by your disgust, he smirked, very pleased with himself.

“It's a show of loyalty. The gangs my family now, and this proves I'll always have their back.” You searched for words, not knowing how to respond to such a bold and naive statement.

“Jesse, you didn't tell us you were bringing a girl.” Spinning around, you saw two older boys slipping into the barn, each clutching a large bottle they had already been nursing. 

“This is my friend. Shes cool.” Jesse grinned, not bothered by the larger men that sauntered up to you. Both of them had at least ten years on you and Jesse. Taller and stronger looking then the boy that sat by the fire, you became distinctly aware of just how isolated you were.

“She's cute.” the taller of the two said, reaching out to touch your hair before you pulled away. The other walked over to Jesse, handing him the bottle which the younger boy greedily consumed, leaving the it half full. This was not good.

“Hey, Jesse. She's not your girl, right? You don't mind if we have some fun with her?” As both men moved to circle you, you looked to Jesse for help, knowing you couldn't fight them off alone.

“Why would you want to?” Jesse scoffed, his words a little slurred as he continued to sip at the bottle. “She's probably still a virgin. Wouldn't be good for much of anything.” His words stung as he stood, legs a little unbalanced. “I know a place we can go where the woman really know how to treat a man.” Enticed by his offer, the men turned from you, their interest fleeting. As the three of them walked towards the door, you couldn't help but call out to your friend.

“Jesse! Wait!” He paused before awkwardly spinning on his heals, eyes taking a moment to focus on you.

“Oh, yeah. Almost forgot.” Swaying over to you, he captured your lips in his, his tongue sneaking into your mouth briefly before you pushed him away, covering your mouth in surprise. “Consider that a little taste of what it's like to be with a man.” Giving you a wink, he turned to rejoin the two men.

“Jesse, you ass.” you muttered bitterly as he slipped out the door and into the darkness of the night.


	3. Crossroads

Stepping out of the taxi, you looked up at the large building that overshadowed you. You had never seen a structure that big in person. How were people ok with being that high off the ground? Collecting yourself, you took a deep breath, hands clutching at your bag as you settled your nerves. You weren't entirely sure what you were hoping to accomplish here, but you had to try. 

You had gotten the news three days ago. “Deadlock Gang falls to Overwatch.” That's what all the papers had said. The articles had detailed how the soldiers of Overwatch had trapped and apprehended the criminals, detaining them at their base as they awaited trial. You knew Jesse had to have been among them. Honestly, you weren't sure what you being here would accomplish, but you couldn't just leave him. Reaffirming your resolve, you took a large step forward, determinant to do everything you could for your oldest friend. 

You were surprised when you were able to walk right in, no one trying to stop you or ask what you were doing here. You roamed the large halls for a while, not really sure where you were going, but too embarrassed to ask. Finally, after a half hour of wandering, you worked up the nerve to stop someone. 

“Excuse me.” You called out, waving down a man that looked friendly. “I'm afraid I'm lost. Could you help me?” Giving you a gentle smile, you admired the way his eyes squinted with his grin. 

“Sure thing. What are you looking for? You a new recruit?” 

“Not exactly. I'm looking for a Mr. Reyes.” Your nerves were getting to you as you stood in this foreign environment, so different then anything you had known back home. 

“Oh, he's in the interrogation rooms right now. I'm headed that way myself. I can take you there.” The man nodded, pointing a thumb over his shoulder in the direction you would be heading. 

“Thank you so much.” a smile of relief crossed your face, your shoulders letting out some of the tension you had been carrying.

“Sure thing.” turning, he began to lead you down a series of corridors that you would have been lost in without him. “Reyes is interrogating all those Deadlock thugs, so it might be a bit before he sees you.”

“Actually, that's what I'm here to talk to him about. I have some information on them that I thought might benefit him.” Looking at you over his shoulder, the man gave you a scrupulous look.

“Where are you from?”

“A small town off of root 66. The Deadlock gang pass through there all the time.”

“You're a pretty brave kid, coming all this way by yourself.”

“I just- I had to do this.” You murmured, looking down at your feet as you shuffled through the halls behind him. You knew your parents would throw a fit when you got home. You hadn't told them where you were going, just left a note on the counter before hopping on the train. 

“It's right up here.” the man said as you rounded a corner. Down the hall you could see four armed guards, each holding some type of threatening looking gun you had never seen before. Biting your lip, you realized how small you were compared to all these men. You were startled as on of the doors slammed open, smacking the wall and bouncing back, only to be caught by a strong hand as a large man emerged. 

To say he was scary was an understatement. The man was thick with muscles, dressed in all black, he looked like he could break you in half with one hand. As he glared at the men in the hall, you shrunk away.

“This one's useless. Lock him back up.” His voice was deep and commanding. He was as large and in-charge as you would expect from a hero of Overwatch.

“Hey Reyes.” The blond man that guided you called out, causing the other to tilt his head towards you.

“What the fuck do you want, Morrison.” the man barked, looking like he was ready for a fight. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea.

“I got someone here who wants to talk to you about the Deadlock gang.” the blond replied, ignoring the edge in the others voice.

“Well they can get in fucking line.” Placing his hands on his hips, Reyes glared at Morrison, oblivious to you as you hid behind the nicer man.

“She says she has some information you might want to hear.” the blond continued, pushing you out from behind him.

“Unless its all where they've hidden all the weapons and who all their selling them to, I ain't interested.” Glancing down at you, the man took note of you for the first time. “This is just a child. What'd you bring her here for?”

“She came here herself. Said she needed to talk to you.” Morrison shrugged, not letting you inch back as you tried to get behind him again, suddenly feeling minuscule in the presence of such large men. Being forced forward, you stuck out an unsteady hand for the Commander to shake, your posture mousy and protective as the man just stared at you.

“H- Hello. I wanted to talk to you. You have my friend. I came to- well, I'm not sure. I just-” As you rambled on, you could see the Commander growing impatient.

“What the hell, Morrison. I don't have time for some child who's here for a play-date.” As the man turned to walk away, you felt a desperate urgency well up inside you.

“Please! Jesse is just seventeen. He just made a stupid mistake. Please don't ruin his whole life because of this one incident. I know he'll be a good man, someday!”

“Jesse? Which one is that?” The Strike Commander asked.

“I think she's talking about McCree.” the Blackwatch Commander stated, crossing his arms as he stared you down. He was an intimidating figure, without a doubt. In any other situation you would have avoided a man like this at all cost. But this was your best friend, you couldn't walk away.

“McCree? Isn't that the one you had that special interest in?” Morrison raised an eyebrow, not paying you much mind as he conversed with the darker skinned man.

“Yeah, but the kid didn't bite. He's as stubborn as he is foolish.”

“Maybe this girl can help us out.” turning to face you, the Strike Commander got serious, his shoulders squaring as he addressed you. “Look, kid. I'm going to be straight with you. You're friend is in some serious trouble. Now he's got lots of potential, and we'd like to give him a second chance, but he's too pigheaded to realize the opportunity in front of him. Maybe you could talk to him. He might listen to you.”

“What do you need me to do?” you were grateful for the chance, but scared as the burden of saving Jesse fell on you. 

“Convince him to join us. If you can't do that, he will go to jail for the rest of his life.” The blond stated, his words settling in your heart like a ten pound weight.

“No pressure.” you uttered softly. Ignoring you sarcasm, the man turned to address the other.

“Is he still in an interrogation room?” 

“Yeah, thought it would be best to keep him as far away from the others as I could. Room five.” Pointing down the hall, the men started to walk off, leaving you to scurry behind them.

“I assume you're his girlfriend.” Morrison asked, glancing down at you as you attempted to keep up with their long stride.

“No. Just an old friend.” you corrected.

“You don't have enough years in your life to be and 'old' friend.” He chuckled, the sound reassuring you a little. As you reached the door, the Strike Commander stopped you, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“I'm sorry, Miss. But I'm going to need to pat you down. Make sure you're not smuggling anything dangerous in.” A blush crossed your face, quickly looking at the floor as your face grew warm.

“Oh. OK” stretching your arms out, you kept your eyes shut tight as the older, uncomfortably good looking man patted his hands over your body, checking you quit thoroughly. His hands did not linger, but never the less, you couldn't help the fierce redness that overtook your face. This was the most intimacy you had ever had with a man.

“She's all good.” he stated, straightening up as he avoided your eyes, not that you minded. “Let's give this a shot.”

As Commander Reyes held the door open for you, you took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the inevitable fight your old friend would put up. Walking through the door, you were met by cruel and defensive eyes, a snarl on the boys lips before he recognized you.

“What the hell?” It wasn't the greeting you wanted, but you couldn't say you were surprised. There Jesse sat, hands cuffed behind his back, securing him to the chair he occupied. A large metal table separated the two of you. His features were rough, small scrapes and bruises spotting his skin. He was looking older, courser, less like the carefree Jesse you had grown up with. But he still wore that stupid hat. “You fuckers seriously dragged her all the way out here, just to try and use her against me. That's damn low you son of a bitch.”

“Actually, she just showed up on our door step this morning.” Reyes stated, placing a hand on your shoulder. You weren't sure if he did it specifically to get under Jesse's skin, but the effect was the same either way. As the boy glared fiercely at the Commanders hand, it gave you a small bit of joy to see that he was still so possessive of you. It was at least something. “So it looks like even a useless punk like you can have someone that cares about them.”

“Fuck you.” Jesse spat.

“Hey.” Morrison interrupted. “Watch your language around the girl.”

“Someone's feeling more energetic. Putting on a show for your little girlfriend? Afraid she'll see you're not the big tough man you pretend to be.”

“Leave him alone!” You shouted, feeling frazzled by all the hostility that was bottled up in that tiny room. “It's no wonder he won't listen to you. Why would anyone trust someone who's so mean to them.” The Strike Commander bit back laughter at the face the other pulled at your scolding. You weren't sure if you had done something wrong, but you couldn't abide by anyone bad mouthing Jesse. Even if he was an idiot most of the time. Looking over at the boy, your eyes met. His mouth slightly open and one brow raised, he clearly hadn't expected you to come to his defense so aggressively. Turning back to the blond man, you implored.

“Could I have a moment alone with him?”

“I'm sorry, but we can't allow that. He's still a dangerous criminal.”

“It's just Jesse.” you reassured, confident that he would never do anything to you.

“Yeah, well. 'Just Jesse' took out eight of my men before we apprehended him.” The Blackwatch Commander snorted, regarding the boy with a mixture of annoyance and admiration. Looking over, you were taken aback by the mans words. You knew Jesse was good, but single handedly taking out eight highly trained agents? The boys chest puffed out, his ego swelling with pride at his boastful accomplishment.

“Ok, well...” you fumbled for words, feeling uncomfortable with the audience as you addressed your best friend. “Jesse, they tell me they want you to join them. Said that if you didn't, they would lock you away.”

“Yeah,” Jesse scoffed, giving you an incredulous look, “What of it?”

“Are you really going to say no to them?” He was being so guarded. It was just like all the times the teacher had called him out about his bad grades, putting him on the spot and tearing him down. And Jesse would respond the only way he knew how, to dig his heals in and go down in flames.

“Hell yeah I'm saying no. I ain't teaming up with these fuckers!” he spat eyes darting between either men.

“Why? Jesse, you're going to go to jail. For the rest of your life.” You knew him too well. He was thinking with his emotions, lashing out as he tried to save face, never wanting to admit he was wrong, never wanting to back down.

“Better to go to jail with my boys then live the rest of my life as a sell out. A man has to have his pride.” 

“You're hardly a man.” The Blackwatch Commander scoffed, folding his arms as he leaned back against the wall.

“You're not helping!” you snipped, getting irritated by his constant jabs. “Jesse, these men are not worth going to jail for, they aren't going to have your back in there. You'll be on your own the rest of your life. They aren't worth giving up your freedom for.”

“They are my family!” Jesse shouted, stomping his foot.

“No! They are not!” you shouted back, slamming your hand on the table in equal response. “Those boys have only ever used you. Jesse, ask yourself, seriously ask yourself, if they were free right now, would they risk their lives to come save you? I would stake my life that they wouldn't. So why are you givin up yours for them?” Words failed him, his features harsh and defensive as his lips pulled into a slight snarl.

“What's it to you anyway? Why did you come here.” So like Jesse, always changing subjects and trying to get others on the defense when he was faced with something he didn't want to deal with. 

“I came here to see you” You're voice was stern.

“Why? You've never set foot outside of that shit town.”

“Because I actually give a damn what happens to you. Now stop changing the subject. Jesse, you are too smart and too talented to waist the rest of your life behind bars. You can still make a name for yourself. Take this opportunity. Don't let that gang drag you down with them.” Moving around the table, you took his face in your hands, leaning over him so that you obscured his few of the two men that watched you. Speaking softly, you looked deep into his eyes, past the arrogance, past the bravado, deep down to the vulnerable side of Jesse that that he hid so very far away. That was the side of Jesse that you appealed to. “Listen, cowboy. I want your name to go down in the history books. Jesse McCree, the greatest gunslinger the world has ever known. I know you could be a legend, but you can't do that if you're locked up. Please. Please, take this opportunity. Prove them all wrong. Everyone back home who said you'd never amount to nothing. Show them just what you're made of.” You surprised yourself as no tears came to your eyes, your convictions being strong enough, and you passion showing through as you saw something in Jesse change. You could feel him relax in your hold, shoulders slumping as his eyes grew softer. Looking at him now, he looked like your best friend again. Young and a bit exposed. Just a boy, trying to take on the whole world at once as he fought to find his place.

“Fine.” he muttered, eyes looking at you, but not seeing you. 

With nothing left to say, you turned away from him, ready to leave.

“Wait.” Looking over at him, you were met by that so familiar grin, cocky and headstrong. “What about my kiss?” Walking over to him, you looked down at the boy you had just saved. Somehow, he seemed so much smaller here then at home. “Now hun, I'm all tied up. Your going to have to come closer then that.” Leaning over him, you met him half way, your hair falling to obscure the two Commanders view as your lips briefly met. You barely had time to feel his warmth before he pulled away, eyes full of triumph despite his situation. As Commander Reyes unhooked him from the chair, Morrison came to stand beside you, placing a hand on your shoulder approvingly.

“I thought you said you weren't his girl. What was all that?”

“That's just Jesse.” you stated blankly, watching as he was escorted out the door and out of sight.


	4. Mark

You sat quietly at the table, chewing at your food, only half listening to conversation that carried on around you. 

“If you ask me, too much focus is going into the lunar project. We should focus our resources on the planet we inhabit, try to heal all the damage done by the Omnics.” Mark went on, discussing matters you had no interest in as your father listened with intrigue. He had always been into politics, a trait that had failed to pass down to you. 

“I must say, for a boy your age, you are very in tuned to what's going on in the world around you.” Your father said something to that extent every time Mark was over. You knew he was fond of the boy, your mother was as well. And why shouldn't they be.

Mark was a decent, upstanding young man. Studying to go into robotics, he had a bright future ahead of him. He was charming and sociable, yet sincere and genuine in the way he treated people. Despite his love of the city and worldly ambitions, he hadn't lost that small town, down to earth practicality. You enjoyed his company greatly. He made you laugh, made you think, made you feel attractive, even upon occasion made you dream of things beyond your small town. 

He joined you and your parents for dinner about three times a week now, making no secrets of his intent with you. Your parents were behind it completely, your father saying that Mark would make a great husband some day. And he wasn't wrong. Mark was a good man, the kind that could support a family and lead a happy, quiet life. The kind of man you had always seen yourself marrying. But despite this, your thoughts were not on marriage. 

There were times you caught yourself looking out the window, mind wondering to the fields of you town, the old torn up roads, so in need of repair, kind and simple people that filled the church every Sunday. You had no intentions of ever leaving this place, yet you couldn't help but feel there was something more waiting for you, and until you found it, you couldn't think of marriage. 

Under the table, Mark took your hand, and you gave his a squeeze in return. A knock came at the door, and your father stood, placing his napkin on the table.

“I'll get it. And when I get back, I want to hear your opinion on this whole Overwatch business.” Smiling warmly, your father disappeared down the hall to get the door. Mark's thumb gently rubbed over the back of your hand as you heard your father open the door, a moment of silence following before he spoke.

“You're not welcomed here.”

“Never have been.” You're heart stopped as you heard the intruder respond, eyes meeting your mothers as her face paled. Releasing Mark's hand, you almost knocked your chair over in your attempt to stand, your mother calling out to you as you rushed to the door.

“Hunny, get back here!” As you rounded the corner, your mind went blank as you took in the man that had slipped in before your father could lock him out. 

He was taller now, scruffier looking, his expression had lost some of the childish softness you had always known. His figure was broader, his muscles thicker and more pronounced. He was looking more grown up, more like a man. From his spurs to that stupid hat, you could see he was becoming the cowboy he had always wanted to be. 

“Hey, darlin.” He grinned, that same old grin, still so confident, so self assure and it cemented something inside you.

“Hey, Jesse.” You're words were breathy, as you regarded the boy you hadn't see for five years. 

“You need to leave.” you father asserted, glancing sideways at you before grabbing Jesse's arm to lead him out.

“Yeah yeah, in a moment.” Jesse shrugged off the older man's hand easily, walking further into the domicile as he looked you up and down. “Here I came expecting to see the same old kid, but I see they are intent on making you into a woman.”

“Everyone grows up at some point,” you smiled softly, looking at those brown eyes, vibrant as they hid in the shadow of his hat. Jesse came to stand in front of you, ignoring everyone else in the room as he watched you, chewing on a cigar that hung out of his mouth. You became aware of someone moving beside you, turning as Mark stepped forward to join you, extending a hand as he waited for Jesse to shake it.

“Long time no see, McCree.”

“Who are you.” You weren't surprised Jesse didn't remember Mark. You all had been in school together since grade school, but even when Jesse had shone up for class, he never took note of the straight A student. Mark didn't seem offended, offering a pleasant smile as he waited for the other to shake his hand.

“Mark Johnson. We went to school together. I'm her boyfriend.” You knew Mark wasn't being protective or aggressive when he said that, simply trying to let your old friend know the situation he had walked into. He was always socially aware like that.

“Oh, are you now?” Jesse chuckled in amusement, putting his arm around your shoulder, pulling you to him as a large gloved hand shook Mark's, his grip firm as the muscles of his forearm tensed. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the anger growing in your mother as she gave Jesse a soured look.

“Mr. McCree, do you really think that's appropriate behavior for a man your age? My daughter is already spoken for. What would people think seeing you being so forward with her?”

“Didn't bother me then,” Jesse said, his cigar illuminating his face as he took a puff, “Doesn't bother me now.” He was loving this, his smile so full of life as he watched your mother grow irate. 

“It's alright, Ma'am. No harm done.” Mark assured, waving his hand as if to fan away some to the hostilities. “I can understand how an old friend could get a little carried away seeing someone they care about. Especially when you consider how close they 'used' to be.” Ok, that was a jab. Despite all the tension in the room, you made no move to distance yourself from your best friend. It was just Jesse, he was just making a show of claiming what he had always seen as his, like a child with an old toy they didn't care about until they were asked to share it. 

But you could tell, he had changed. He acted older, less brash, less impulsive. Normally by now your father would have threatened to call the cops, Jesse cursing up a storm as he reined chaos upon your house. He really was growing up, even if just a little bit.

“Close enough for her to hop a train out of his shit hole to come see me.” he grinned, blowing smoke at the other as Mark faltered. He hadn't known about that. Despite Mark's constant attempts to take you on trips to other states, heck, even just other towns, that had been the soul time in your life that you had left your home town. “Or did she not tell you about that?” As Mark looked at you with questioning eyes, you found yourself unable to think of any kind of response, knowing that this would later lead to a long conversation between the two of you. Composing himself, Mark looked back at Jesse, the pleasant smile long since gone. 

“What did you come here for McCree?” At his words, Jesse released you, shrugging as he took the cigar out of his mouth. 

“I was in the area, and thought I'd stop by to see an old friend.” Grinning that wicked grin, he regarded the other with cold eyes, as if sizing him up and finding him wanting. 

“Well I think it's time you leave.”Mark stated, eyes equally cold as he looked over the cowboy.

“Yeah, probably,” Jesse hummed, moving towards the door as if it was his idea. You followed him, opening the door, not wanting to see him go, but knowing he was bound to leave anyway. “I have a mission to get to. I'd tell you about it, but it's top secret. Need to know kinda thing.” Flicking his cigar out the door, he looked at you one last time, offering you a warm smile. “Bye, darlin.” 

Wrapping an arm around your waist, he pulls you close, his gloved hand cupping your cheek as he claimed your lips, his whiskers scratching your face as he turned you so that everyone in the room had a good view. As always, it didn't last long, and before you knew it he had slipped out the door, leaving everyone in an uproar as you watched through the glass panel of the door as the taillights of his motorcycle faded off into the distance.


	5. The Diner

“She told me she loved me. Women, they can do that. They can tell you they love you in the moment and mean it. Men, on the other hand... No, men only really love you in hindsight. When too much distance has built up.”  
\- Pagan Min, Far Cry 4

 

The diner was completely empty, not surprising since it was nearly midnight. The two men sipped on their drinks, enjoying the rest before they hit the road again. It would have been faster to fly back to base after this last mission, but Jesse missed the feeling of the open road, and he didn't get as many chances to ride his motorcycle nowadays. The cowboy lounged back in his chair, raising the beer lazily to his lips as he stared out the window into the darkness. Genji sat forward, elbows resting on the table as he nursed his tea, eyes closed. Probably lost in his past, Jesse thought, regarding the other briefly before his eyes returned to the window. The past wasn't something the cowboy lingered on much. There was nothing back there for him but bad memories. 

“Sure I can't get you boys anything to eat?” the waitress asked, walking up to them as she brought the second beer Jesse had asked for. 

“No thank ya, hun.” the cowboy stated, leaning his head back to look at the woman.

“You're not from here, are you? Just passing through? Or are you staying for a while?” the waitress asked, looking down at the cowboy with tempting eyes. Jesse hadn't remembered he breast being so exposed when she had first taken their order.

“Just passing through.” Jesse replied, not paying her much attention as he puffed his cigar. Genji just sat there, ignoring them, the waitress doing the same to the cyborg as she continued to try to gauge Jesse in conversation.

“I was meaning to say, that's a nice accent you got.” Getting a little annoyed at the woman's persistence, Jesse let out an aggravated sigh. He hated pushy women.

“Thanks” Snorting, he downed his drink, no smile on his lips as he reached for the other one.

“Where are you from to get an accent like that?” Leaning against the table, the woman bent over, her breast in danger of spilling from her top as she shamelessly flirted with the cowboy.

“Small town off of route 66. You'd nevera heard of it. It's a shit filled town with shit filled people.”

“You really hate that town, huh? So I guess you don't have a sweetheart waiting for you back there.” Jesse took a drag on his cigar, thinking solemnly. Despite it all, one face came to mind, soft and kind, eyes full of eagerness and trust. It was a face he hadn't though about in years, but as it came to him now, he found it hard to imagine he hadn't thought about it every day. She was suddenly heavy on his mind, a weight growing in him as memories he had ignored for so many years resurfaced. 

“Yeah, I supposes she's still waiting. Though I'll never know why.” Jesse had never understood why someone as good and sweet and pure as her had latched onto a good for nothing like him. Everything he touched died, everywhere he went, chaos and turmoil was left in his wake. He was impulsive and egotistical, he knew that. He drank too much and lived too fast, never caring about anything or anyone, including himself. Yet there she always was, waiting for him with a smile and those soft eyes.

“Oh,” Taken aback at his words, the waitress stood up, slightly embarrassed as she tried to regain her dignity.

“I'll be right back. Gotta make a call.” The chair legs squeaked as he pushed back from the table, a groan escaping him as he stood on stiff legs. “I'll just be a minute.” waving over his shoulder, he made his way to the door, not waiting for a response as the door chimed and he stepped into the brisk chill of the night.

Typing in the digits, the thought briefly passed that she had probably changed her number after all this time, but as he pushed send, he resolved not to worry about it.   
The phone began to ring, a deafening sound in the stillness. Sucking on his cigar, Jesse relished the flavor as he waited, not really sure what he would say if it was her that picked up. After what felt like far too long, the line click as someone answered.

“Hello?” A soft smile came to his lips as he heard her voice, his heart lifting as he kicked the toe of his boot into the dirt. 

“Hey, darlin.” There was a moment of silence on the other end before the voice came back, louder and more energetic.

“Jesse! Is that you?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, a small warmth in his heart at the relief that nothing had changed. “It's me.”

“What's going on? Is everything alright?” she asked, concern in her voice.

“Everything's fine. Just thought I'd give you a call.” Taking the cigar out of his mouth, he wiped at his beard, cleaning off some of the ash that had been knocked into it. 

“Really? You never call. And after all this time...” her voice trailed off, her sentence not needing to be finished. It had been five years since he had last seen her. Walking into her life just long enough to stir up trouble before taking his kiss and leaving. That's how it always was. Only returning when he needed to reaffirm that there was someone there waiting, that that gentle smile still shone only for him.

“Yeah, well, I'm calling now.” He muttered, beginning to pace in front of the diner, stillness never being a quality of his.

“Are you safe? Are you well?” He could hear a chair scrape as she sat down.

“As safe as someone who gets shot at for a living can be.” He mused, enjoying the laugh his comment got. 

“You know what I mean. I worry about you. Out there fighting all those bad guys, keeping the world save. I'm always hearing on the news all the dangerous stuff Overwatch is getting into. I mean, you always got yourself into enough trouble here. I can only imagine what you're doing out there.” A prideful grin tugged at the man's lips at her words. 

“Well, darlin. Didn't know you were thinking of me so much.” He teased, knowing it would rial her up. It always did.

“Shut up, Jesse. You're my best friend. Of course I think about you. Not that you deserve it. Always running off like you do.” As he pictured her, sitting there waving her hands about in exaggerated gestures like she always did, he let out a hearty laugh, the sound louder and more soulful then any he had produced in a long time. “Don't you dare laugh at me, Jesse McCree! Did you call me up just because you needed a good joke?” as he continued laughing, he could hear barking on the other end of the line.”Hang on, Jesse. I need to let Clint in.”

“Since when did you get a dog? I thought your mother hated them.” Walking over to his motorcycle, the cowboy sat down on the seat, lighting up another cigar as he listened to the woman fumble with a door.

“She still does. But after I moved out, there was nothing she could do about it. I named him Clint, after Clint Eastwood. I guess all those westerns you made me watch rubbed off on me.” He could hear the barking growing louder, the sounds of a happy dog predominant as she ushered him in. 

“Wait, when did you move out?” He asked, the smile fading as he talked around his cigar.

“Three years ago.” The way she stated it, so matter of factly, like it was something Jesse should have just known, irritated him.

“You move in with that pansy boy?” the cowboy asked, not masking his annoyance as he scowled at the worn lines of the diner parking lot. 

“No. I have my own place.” she answered, a screen door slamming behind her as she reentered the house. “And shush. Mark is a perfectly fine man.” She was so casual about it, not giving her statement a second thought as the cowboy scowled at her words. Before Jesse had the chance to respond, she continued, unhindered by the man's now soured attitude. “You remember Mrs. Jodeen, right?” With a huff, he let the topic of Mark go, though still his annoyance lingered.

“The old bat that used to call the cops on me?”

“You were sneaking on to her property to shoot her chickens.” 

“The lady had a hundred of them”

“She had thirty, Jesse.” She corrected, taking a motherly tone with him before going on. “Anyway, her health started failing several years ago, so I moved in to help take care of her. She passed away six months ago and left me her ranch.”

“Didn't she have a son? Why didn't he get it?”

“She didn't like to talk about it, but from what I've heard, it turns out that George had an affinity for the young women. A little too young, if you know what I mean.”

“Never did like the way he used to look at you. Always was a creep.”

“Yeah, well, either way, here I am. Seventy two acres, all my own.”

“And she expected a little thing like you to manage all that?”

“Hey, I'm not the same little girl you knew all those years ago. I'm grown up now. I can take care of myself.”

“Yeah,” Jesse muttered, something in him growing heavy at her words, “It sounds like it.” 

She really was grown up. Making her own way in the world, she had accomplished so much he hadn't even known about. She wasn't this little thing still waiting in that dark scary barn for her best friend to come protect her from the things that went bump in the night. She wasn't that sheepish thing that sat in the back booth of the local diner, too shy to call the waiter over to get a refill. She wasn't the same girl that cried as he said goodbye, timidly letting him take his kiss before he walked away. She wasn't waiting anymore.

Thinking back over the last ten years of his life, Jesse recalled how hectic his life had been. Never staying in one place too long, never forming connections, everything changing week to week. In this crazy, mixed up experience he called a life, she was the one constant. Despite all the missions, despite all the ever changing faces of Overwatch, despite his constant travels, a part of him had always known he could go back, and there she would be, waiting in the doorway, greeting him like nothing had ever changed. 

“I wanna see you again.” His voice was soft, eyes staring off into the dark horizon as he waited for her response. 

“Well you know my door is always open.” He could hear her smile, see it so perfectly in his mind. Warm and welcoming and waiting, a smile that was saved for him and him alone. Or at least, it use to be. Now he wasn't so sure.

“I'll be there in a day.” 

“Alright. I'll see you soon, Jesse.” Her voice was welcoming, conjuring up long lost memories of the extensive and deep history between the two as the man chewed on his lower lip, wishing she was there in front of him at that moment. It felt alien, saying goodbye without steeling her lips, without feeling her warmth, even if only for that fleeting moment.

Walking back in, he didn't even acknowledge the waitress, grabbing his jacket before downing what was left of his beer.

“You head back without me.” He said to his companion, not waiting for a response as he threw a twenty down on the table before pulling his jacket on roughly. “Tell Reyes I'll be late. I gotta take care of something.” Without another word, he marched out of the diner, the bell on the door fading out as the motor of his bike picked up, carrying him off into the night.


	6. Ramblin' Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rewrote this chapter three times and am still not 100% happy with it. So I'm sorry for the delay. I have a lot going on this week but after Wednesday I should have more free time to get work out so please be patient with me.

He only stopped once in the night, somewhere around 5 AM, to get a cheep motel and a few hours sleep before hitting the road again. As the wind swept back his hair and the road stretched out before him into eternity, Jesse was alone with his thoughts. 

He thought about the day they had met, only six years old. He thought about the way she innocently kissed his bruises left by his father, stating that 'Mommy says kisses have healing powers'. He thought about their years in elementary school, all the fights he had gotten in and how she had always defended him to the teacher. He thought about when he was eight, and had kissed her for the first time. He had seen it in some movie, a man kissing a woman so that another man would leave her alone. He hadn't known what it meant, just knew that it seemed to work. He thought about all their meetings in the barn, all the times she had bandaged him up after some fight, how he had always made her kiss the bruises, and she did it without question. He thought about all the times she had come to get him as he lay in some corner somewhere, drunk off his rocker. 

He gritted his teeth as he remembered one particularly bad bout, after his father had used him as a punching bag and thrown him down the stairs. When she had come to get him, he had lashed out, smacking her clean across the face. She hadn't said anything, hadn't even cried, just helped him up and dragged him off to the barn to take care of him, but Jesse, in his drunken state, had spent the whole night crying about it, so afraid he was becoming his old man. He thought about the first time he had gotten his hands on a gun, how worried she had been. So worried, desperate to convince him to put it back. But he hadn't. And despite it all, she would still sneak him bullets from her father, still sit and watch him practice, still clap and cheer whenever he would hit something. 

He thought about the look on her face the day he said he was leaving and her soft eyes when she saw him in the barn after his first year in the Deadlock Gang. He thought about the desperation in her eyes as she pleaded with him to take Reyes's offer, how she had cared more about his future then he had. He thought about the way she had run to the door at his last visit, despite all the years, despite all the neglect, despite her boyfriend, she had come running for him, just like when they were kids.  
Memory after memory played through his head, each more intimate then the last, and by the time he road into that small town, he had relived their whole lives together three times over. 

Mrs. Jodeen's property was just a ten minute drive from the town hall, easy enough to get to. As he drove down the dirt road, dust kicking up behind him and the air heavy with the smell of livestock, he didn't stop to think what he would say to her. Play it by ear, that's how he lived his life.

Slowing down as he pulled up to the front gate, he was surprised by how small the house was compared to memory. Nothing big, nothing fancy, just a regular two bedroom country house. As he dismounted his bike, flipping the kickstand up, a large, fluffy Australian shepherd came bounding for him, its paws smearing dirt on his pants as the dog jumped on him. 

“Whoa now, you must be Clint.” the dog barked excitedly, spinning in circles and prancing at his feet as it greeted the new comer. “Your mama home?” Jesse asked playfully, ruffling up the dogs ears. 

“You here to shoot my chickens, cowboy?” Looking up at the porch, a grin spread across the man's face. You lounged in a rocking chair, hidden away in the shadow, blanket draped over your lap as you rocked lazily, watching him with an amused smile. 

“Well, darlin,” Jesse started, working that charming smile of him, “they make for great target practice.” You chuckled at his response, putting the book you had been reading off to the side.

“You're nothing but trouble, Jesse McCree.” Standing up, you folded your blanket over the back of the rocking chair, turning to meet him at the steps as he walked towards you.

“Yeah, but I make it look damn good.” Clint ran excitedly around your feet, letting out the occasional bark as he watched the two of you. 

As Jesse stood on the step below you, you reached out, almost knocking his hat off as you wrapped your arms around his neck, his beard tickling your face as you took in his sent, tobacco and gunpowder. The man hesitated for a moment, but soon you felt strong arms enveloping your waist, holding you close as the cowboy curled his body around yours. 

“It's been too long Jesse.” you said softly into his hair.

“Yeah,” he muttered, his thumb rubbing across your back. “I know.”

As you broke the hug, you gave him a warm smile, pushing his hat back into position before looking him up and down.

“You're looking good Jesse. This life must really suit you.” Giving a shrug, Jesse's eyes wandered your form, 

“It's fine enough. Keeps me busy.” You chuckled quietly at his response, his disinterest so familiar to you. “How about you though? Looks like you're doing well for yourself.”

“Yeah, it's not bad. Lota hard work, but I enjoy it.” Looking out over your land, you smiled contently. It wasn't the way you pictured your life turning out, but you were happy with it. “So I guess you really showed this town, huh?”

It wasn't the question you wanted to ask. You wanted to ask how long he'd be staying. When he would come back. If he would stay for a few days. If he ever thought about you outside of these few visits. But you knew better then to ask any of those questions. Jesse wasn't one for feelings or emotions, those kinds of questions would just drive him away. 

“What do you mean?” He asked, eyebrows knitted in confusion.

“You always said you would make a name for yourself and show this town you were bigger then it would ever be. Now that you're a big shot member of Overwatch, I guess you've done that.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, a bright grin crossing his face, “I guess I have.” You smiled back at him, loving the twinkle in his eyes as he thought back to all the times he had kept himself going by shear hatred of this place.

“I'm proud of you, Jesse.” Your words caught the cowboy off guard, causing him to falter as you reached up to ruffle his hat down on his head teasingly. “You've really made something of yourself. Guess I don't have to worry about you anymore.”

“Hey!” he shouted, knocking your hand away to fix his hat as he glared at you, though there was no malice behind his eyes. You laughed at his expression, causing the man to grin back at you.

“You say that like you doubted I'd make it.” he said playfully, that arrogant grin crossing his face for the first time since he had arrived. 

“I don't know, I recall having to hop a train to convince a certain cowboy not to be so stupid as to get his ass thrown in jail for the rest of his life.” you gave him a cheeky smile as he raised a brow, the coy look in his eyes so much more like the Jesse you knew. 

“I recall no such thing.” He said, his playful tone accented by the step he took towards you.

“I think you do.” You replied, poking a finger into his chest as you looked up at him, his eyes, mischievous and lively. 

“Nope, it definitely never happened. You must be delirious with the heat.”

“I think it's you whose delirious. Always have been. In fact, maybe I'll just have you committed, then I'll always know where to find you.” Putting your hands on your hip, you sassed him right back, enjoying the banter while you could, though you knew in the back of your mind that at any minute, the urge would hit him, and he'd be gone.

“You can call them, darlin. But they'll just end up carting you away, and then who will watch Clint?” The dog perked up at hearing his name before returning to rolling around in the dusty earth. 

“Well I guess you'd just have to. Seeing as it would be your fault.”

“No can do. Dogs don't ride bikes. Couldn't take him with me.”

“Then maybe you would have to stay.”

“Like I'd ever do that.” You didn't want to falter at his words, didn't want to let your expression drop as much as it did, but his words were a reminder you didn't need. Seeing your reaction, the man backtracked. “I didn't mean it like that. Don't take it so seriously.”

“Yeah,” You chuckled weakly, trying to save face as your embarrasment grew. You were such a child sometimes, wearing your heart on your sleeves for the world to see, “I know. You never stay in one place for too long. It's just how you are.”

“Darlin-”

“No, Jesse. It's ok, really. I came to terms with who you are a long time ago. You're a ramblin' man. You are never going to chang-” His gloved hand took hold of you chin, tilting you up to his lips as he stole his kiss. You were startled, realizing what you had done. Pulling away, you desperately tried to fix things.

“Jesse, no. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you mad. Please don't leave just yet-”

“I'm not leaving, darlin.” Not giving you the chance to respond, his hand slid along your jaw to tangle in your hair, his other arm wrapped around your lower back, pulling you closer as he leaned in again, claiming your lips for a second time, but this was different. He didn't pull away, didn't give you an arrogant grin, didn't walk away. As he held you to him, deepening the kiss, you weren't sure how to respond.

Was this a joke? Did he think this was funny? Or was this really? Was there a chance, that maybe this time, Jesse meant it? Taking a chance, your arms wrapped around his neck, lips pressing deeper as your heart raced. You hoped this wasn't just some show of possession, wasn't just Jesse needing to prove something, you desperately prayed that what you had always been afraid to actually dream of was really happening. 

His lips began to eat at yours, nipping your lower lip and slipping his tongue in as you let out a small moan. Your face was flush, your body growing hot as the man explored your warm crevice, tongue entangling with yours in a clumsy dance. His fingers pressed into your back, pulling at your shirt as his hot breath mingled with yours, a small growl building in his throat. 

“J-Jesse” You were feeling light headed, but couldn't bring yourself to pull away for air. 

“Darlin.” the cowboy growled, breaking the kiss just long enough to speak and grant you the breath you desperately needed. “Please, let me stay.” Scooping you up in his arms, Jesse didn't wait for a response, carrying you towards the door as he continued to kissing you hungrily, years of suppressed longing pouring forth. You couldn't help a giggle as he man grumbled against your lips, fumbling with the handle of the screen door before finally yanking it open. As he carried you over the threshold, you pulled back to give him a loving smile, admiring the longing in those brown orbs as they flickered between your eyes.

“Stay with me, Jesse.”


	7. Home

Jesse stumbled around the house for a while, not knowing where he was going, but unwilling to leave your lips long enough to find out. You continued to kiss him, unbothered by his fumblings as you savored the taste of his lips, a part of you believing that as soon as you broke the kiss, he would leave. Finally, after wandering into the kitchen, Jesse let out a low growl, muttering into your mouth as he readjusted you in his arms.

“Bedroom.”

“Down the hall.” You replied, never breaking contact as you pointed over his shoulder. A grunt was the only response you got as the cowboy made his way in the direction you had indicated, finally finding the room he had been searching for.   
Kicking the door open wider, Jesse carried you in, not bothering to shut the door behind him before flopping down on the bed with you beneath him. Your face was warm, flushed as the man began to kiss down your neck, nipping softly at the skin as he pulled his gloves off so his bare hands could wander your form. 

“Jesse.” you moaned, hands gripping his shoulders as he sucked at your neck, left hand pulling your shirt out of your pants so it could sneak underneath to brush over the soft flesh of your stomach. 

“Darlin, I want you.” His voice was deep, guttural, sending a wave of heat down your spine to settle in your stomach as he groaned into your neck. As his hand took hold of your breast from under your shirt, your breath hitched. “You're so soft.” he muttered, gently biting your throat as you leaned your head back, the scratchy feeling of his beard making a shiver course through you. “So warm.” Pulling your shirt up all the way, he freed your right breast from the cup of your bra, taking it in his mouth as he swirled his tongue around the nipple. “Beautiful.” You were a mess beneath him, coming unraveled at his touch, light headed was you panted under his weight. 

You wanted this, wanted it more thank you had wanted anything, needing to know him in this way, needing to know Jesse's love, how he kissed you, how he worshiped your body, the pleasure he could inspire in you. But you were scared, deep deep down, you were so scared. This would change everything. If this happened, right here, right now, you weren't sure you would stand to watch him leave, to be alone again for so long. What if he didn't feel the same? What if he was just horny, and you were convenient? Would Jesse really do that to you? 

“Jesse, please,” you interrupted, pushing on his shoulders lightly, biting your lip as he looked up to meet your eyes. The hunger in his eyes sent a new wave of warmth down your spine as he watched you breathlessly. “I need to know this is real. I-I don't want to be used.” Despite your best efforts, tears came to your eyes.  
“Hey, hey.” Jesse whispered softly, reaching up to cup your cheek, his course thumb wiping at your tears. “I want you. Just you.” Moving up to kiss you, you felt so much love, so much devotion in his touch, your heart fluttered in your chest, feeling lighter at his words. “I'm sorry it took me so long to realize it.” A he pecked at your lips, kiss after kiss after kiss, you became lost in his passion. 

Pulling your shirt up over your head, you expected to feel exposed, but you never did. It was Jesse, you could lay yourself bare in front of him and it would be fine. You knew this man more intimately than any other, there was no part of yourself you could, or would hide from him. Moving back to your breast, the cowboy resumed his work, suckling at the soft hills of your chest as his hand endeavored to unhook your bra. Your fingers laced through his hair as you watched him, this man you loved so much, showering you with affections you had never been brave enough to dream of. As he tossed your bra aside, his hand moved to massage and squeeze your breast, relishing the way they filled his grasp so perfectly. 

While he sucked at your chest, leaving a trail of hickeys and bite marks across your torso, his free hand slid down your body, coming to rub over the crotch of your jeans. You couldn't help the moan that escaped you, shivering at his touch as he expertly massaged your woomanhood. 

“J-Jesse.” Your voice was weak, but he loved the way his name sounded rolling off your tongue. There were so many things he wanted to do to you, so many things he wanted you to experience together. How many years had he felt this way? How long had he been oblivious to his own need? And now that it was realized, now that he knew what he wanted, the damn broke and a torrent of desires and emotions overtook him, sweeping him away as he desperately clung to your body, wanting to memorize every inch of it. 

Unable to wait, he hurriedly undid your pants, yanking them down to your ankles before he settled himself in between your shaky thighs. It didn't take him long to rip his shirt off, tossing it to the floor as he made quick work of his belt. You admired his torso with lusty eyes. He really was a man now. His chest was broad with rippling muscles and the right amount of hair. This wasn't the body of the boy you had spent summers at the swimming hole with, this was the body of a fighter. 

“Like what you see?” The man grinned, noticing your stare as he puffed out his chest with pride. You couldn't help the blush that dusted your cheeks as he caught you.

“You've grown into quite the man.” you replied, biting your lip as you cursed yourself for not thinking of something sexy to say. With a confident smirk, the cowboy leaned over you, his hot breath tickling your ear as his low voice renewed your lust. 

“Let me show you just how much of a man I've become.” As his hips pressed against yours, you could definitely feel it, large and solid and impressive, Jesse's arousal was undeniable. 

Grinding against your panties, the man quickly reduced you to a moaning mess as he sucked at your neck, whispering lewd things into your ear as he told you in detail just what he wanted to do to you. You were having trouble thinking, the man's body and the pleasure he inspired in you being all you could concentrate on as Jesse worked you into a lather. The man took so much satisfaction in the sounds you made, the way you came undone at his touch, the longing in your eyes as you looked at him. You were his and his alone. You needed him. You may be the only person in the world that did, but if it was you, that was enough for him.

“I can't wait, darlin.” he growled, the restriction of his pants painful against his throbbing need. As he quickly kicked off his pants and boxers, the cowboy knelt before you in nothing but that which God graced him with upon his birth and that stupid hat. Not wanting to be bothered with them, the man ripped one side of your panties, leaving them to hang from your thigh as he positioned himself at your sex. Rubbing the tip against your slick entrance, he leaned down to capture your lips, this kiss rough and needy as his arms wrapped around your back. 

Pushing in, he hissed at the tightness of you walls, loving how they squeezed him. With a sharp thrust of his hips, he was half way in you, groaning at the bolts of pleasure that shot though him, until you let out a sharp cry.

“OW! Ow ow. Gentle, Jesse.” You whimpered, wriggling away from the pain as you gripped his shoulders tight.

“Sorry. It's been a while.” the cowboy admitted, embarrassed as he held still inside you.

“It's ok.” you winced, trying to adjust as his girth stretched you. “Just take it slow, please. This is my first time.”

“What do ya mean you first time?” Jesse exclaimed, leaning back to look at you incredulously, small sparks of pain irritating your groin as his cock was pushed further in. “You're twenty seven.” Grabbing his sides, you attempted to still him, grimacing at the pain.

“Yeah, well, I was always waiting for you.” A bewildered grin crossed Jesse's face, brown eyes looking down at you as you lay beneath him. A soft chuckle escaped him as he dipped his head down to rest his forehead against yours. 

“Ok, darlin'. We'll take it slow.” Capturing your lips, he slowly began to push in, giving you time to adjust to each inch that was forced into you. It still stung, but the slow pace combined with the Jesse's distracting kisses eased the discomfort and before you knew it, he was fully sheathed in you. The cowboy was panting heavy with the effort of restraining his hips, desperate for friction as he enjoyed you warm walls, but he remained still.

“You good?” He asked, clearly wanting to continue.

“Yeah. Just- not too rough.” Nodding, he slowly pulled out of you only to push back in, starting a steady yet gentle pace as his hips rocked back and forth. It still stung, but the pain was lessening, and as Jesse sucked at your neck, hands playing with your sensitive breast, your arousal returned. It wasn't long before he was thrusting faster, breath heavy on your neck as he gave your supple mounds rough squeezes.

“Fuck, darlin'. You're so tight.” he groaned, pinching the skin of your neck between his teeth. His body was growing hot, but then, so was yours, heat building between the two of you as your bodies rocked together. You were seeing past the pain now, enjoying the feeling of his thrusts as he filled you so completely. Biting your lip, you clutched at his back, the man taking this as encouragement to pick up speed. As his hips bucked against yours roughly, you cried out, but this time in pleasure as his rutting hips sent a shiver through your body.

“Did I hurt you?” Jesse asked, slowing down as he looked at you with concern.

“No, no. Keep going. I like that.” you stammered, not wanting him to stop as you felt a tingling in your lower stomach. With a soft smile, Jesse seemed genuinely happy, hips resuming their eager pace as he propped himself up on his elbows. He quickly regained his rhythm, his thrusts forcing moan after delicious moan out of you as you spread your legs further to allow him better access.

“You sound so sexy, hun. Coming all undone while I make you into a woman.” You shuddered at his words, a soft whimper escaping you as he grinned at you. It was the same grin from when you were young, so cocky and self assured, but his time so full of love and pride as he watched you struggle for words. “I'm the only one that gets to see you like this.” he groaned, pulling you close as his hips picked up a brutal pace, bringing you close to your end as you struggled to think. “Only me.”

“Only you, Jesse. It's only ever been you. Just you.” you rambled, unable to form coherent thoughts, speaking without thinking as you teetered at the brink. At hearing your words, Jesse slammed into you harder, feeling his own orgasm about to overtake him as his heart swelled to bursting point at your confession.

“Say my name! When you cum, call my name, darlin'.” As you tipped over the edge, body trembling in his hold as you experience your first real taste of pleasure, he didn't need to tell you, his name was the only thing going through your mind.

“Jesse! Jesse, oh God, Jesse!” His name poured from your lips as if it was the last name you'd ever say, your body racked by the overwhelming sensations of your orgasm. As he heard your voice, riddled with pleasure as you called his name, Jesse came undone.

“Fuck! Darlin'.” he growled, spilling into you as his hips thrust sporadically, riding out his climax as he held you tight, bodies convulsing together. As your highs subsided, you were both left, breathless and spent, collapsing back on the bed. 

Your mind was fuzzy, thoughts coming to you in fragments as you panted for air. Weakly, Jesse nuzzled into you, his thumb gently rubbing circles over your flesh. You heard him murmurer something, but couldn't make out what he was saying. 

“What?” you asked, sitting up slightly as the cowboy pulled out of you, his seed dripping down your leg and onto the sheets.

“I asked, was it worth the wait?” Jesse repeated, giving you a confident grin, though his eyes were nervous.

“Yeah, you always are.” you smiled, leaning up to kiss him as his eyes brightened. Collapsing back on the bed, you let the day replay through your head, still not believing the last twenty four hours had really happened. The sun was setting outside, cascading rays of orange and red coloring your room as Clint barked outside. As you heard the sound of a belt jangling, you bolted up. Jesse already had his pants back on, securing his belt buckle as he kicked his shoes upright.

“Where are you going?” You asked, fear gripping your heart.

“To get a glass of water. You want some.” he stated, heading to the hall without putting his shirt on.

“Jesse.” you called out, causing him to pause at the door, looking back at you. The way the sunlight hit him, his tan skin and brown hair, those twinkling eyes, your heart swelled as you looked at the man you had devoted your whole life to. “Stay with me.”you wished your voice hadn't sounded as desperate, as needy as it had, but as the man gave you a soft chuckle, you felt yourself relax.

“Of course.” With that, he disappeared down the hall, the sound of running water putting your mind at ease as you loosened your grip on the sheets. Smiling brightly, you ran through all that had happened that day, a disbelieving chuckle coming to your lips as you covered your face. This was real.

***********************************

The first day was great. The two of you stayed in bed all day, only leaving to briefly do the chores, Jesse helping you with them so they didn't take long. You enjoyed each others company. Talking, cuddling, kissing. Everything was heavenly. 

By day two, you could tell Jesse was getting restless. Frequently asking to go on walks around the property or go into town. You obliged, just enjoying being with him as you ran errands and took care of various projects on your expansive land.

But by day three, his eyes were wondering to the fields, the expansive horizon, the road.

“Go.” He was surprised by you words, turning away from the plate he was picking at to give you a confused look.

“What?”

“You're ready to leave. You should just go.” your words were direct, no emotion, no hurt. 

“Darlin', I'm staying with you.” He reassured, though he couldn't help the glance he spared out the window.

“Jesse, it's ok. You weren't meant for settlin' in one place.”

“Darlin'-”

“You were born for leaving, Jesse. We both know that. And I was born for waiting. I'll be here when you get back. But you're not happy unless you're out there.” the cowboy had no response. He couldn't deny what you were saying was true. He felt restless, trapped in this little house. He didn't want to leave you, but needed the road. For a long time, he just sat there, staring blankly at his plate, lost in some inner battle before he finally looked up at you. 

“Will you wait for me?”

“Always.” you said, a soft smile on your lips. In an instant he was standing, crossing the kitchen to scoop you up in his arms, kissing you passionately before resting his forehead against yours, a reluctant sort of joy in his eyes.

“I'll be back soon. I promise.” 

“I know.” His lips found yours again, stealing your breath as he tried to convey all the love and gratitude he felt in that one kiss. As he released you, he turned towards the door, not another word, no second glance as he walked out the kitchen door, off on another adventure.


	8. Overwatch

Laying in bed, your eyes settled on your alarm clock, the red numbers showing bright and distinct against the black face. 10:00 AM. With a groan, you went to roll out of bed, slightly annoyed when two strong arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you back into bed and holding you in place against a strong, fuzzy chest. Again.

“Jesse, I gotta get up. I have chores to do.” Again you tried to get up, and again you where pulled into the man's warm embrace.

“Just a little longer, darlin'.” He hummed, nuzzling his nose into your hair as his strapping arms gave you a squeeze.

“You said that three hours ago.” you chirped, making no effort to hide your irritation.

“Ten more minutes.” The cowboy muttered.

Rolling over in his grasp, you studied the face of your love, brushing his dusty brown locks out of his face so you could cup his cheek. He looked tired, both physically and mentally, eyes weary as they looked up at you.

“What's wrong Jesse?” your voice was soft, soothing as you stroked his cheek. “You never stay this long. Did something happen at work?”

It was true, things had changed since that visit three years ago, when you and Jesse had finally been honest with just how much you needed each other. He visited more often now and for longer. His visits could last anywhere from a couple days to a whole month, and he rarely was gone for more then six months. He even called more often now, your phone usually ringing every other day, his gruff voice on the line, checking on how you were and keeping you updated on what he was doing. You enjoyed what you had with the cowboy. You loved him, and knew he loved you in return, but you also enjoyed the space and freedom your relationship allowed.

For two months now Jesse had been staying with you. The longest visit he had ever had. You knew something had to be eating at him. He wasn't acting like his usual self. He slept most of the day, and was up all night. He was drinking more then usually, and just moped around the house. Today marked a full week since he had been outside.

“It's nothing, darlin'.” he said, unconvincingly. Leaning up, he captured your lips, though the kiss was half hearted and weak.

“You say that every time. But your not acting like yourself, Jesse.” Grabbing his shoulder, you refused to let him roll over, making him face you as you insisted on getting an answer. “Please, I'm worried about you. After all we've been through, you can talk to me.”

Looking up at you, you could see the reluctance in his eyes, brows turned up in uncertainty as he argued with himself. He trusted you. Lord knew he trusted you. There wasn't a thing in the world he couldn't tell you. But he wasn't sure he knew how to put what he was feeling into words, wasn't sure he wanted to open that dam. But as you looked at him, concern and uncertainty in your eyes, he felt compelled to open up. He hated to see you so worried. He had worried you enough already for one lifetime. With a sigh, he sat up, closing his eyes as he tried to think of where to start.

“We lost Captain Amari...”

“Oh, hun. I'm so sorry.” Wrapping your arms around him, you held him close. At first he just lay there, but as you stroked his hair, laying gentle kisses on the top of his head, the man caved, burying his face into you as he clung to your soft form. Taking deep breaths, you could tell Jesse was fighting back tears, something you hadn't seen him do since he was a young teen. You had heard about Ana Amari upon occasion, Jesse spoke of her with great respect and admiration. But you hadn't realized they had been this close. A small pang of jealousy lodged itself in your heart like a thorn. “I didn't realize you two were so close.” You hated the words that slipped past your lips. You should be comforting him, not acting like an insecure teen. Luckily, Jesse didn't seem to notice, or maybe he just ignored the statement.

“She was exactly what I needed when I first came to Overwatch. She was so rigid about training and rules, but she was understanding. She never judged me for my past. She cared so much about the people working under her. I hadn't had that before.” _I cared about you like that._ “I thought I did with the Deadlock gang, but when I saw how Ana treated her people, how hard she fought to protect them, I knew I had never had that.” You thought about how you had left home, the only time in your life, you had hopped on a train, alone at seventeen, just for the chance to save the man you held now. “For thirteen years I fought with that woman. She inspired me. She made me want to be better. Make something of myself.” You fought back the bitterness that clouded your heart. You had been there for him. You had believed in him when no one else had. You had always known he would be great someday. “I guess, she was everything I had always imagined my mother should be.” Your hand stilled, no longer stroking his hair as you looked down at the man that lay curled up in your arms.

Jesse had never spoken of his mother. In the twenty four years you had known him, he had never once mentioned his mother. You had always assumed she had died giving birth to him. No one in town spoke of her and your parents had diverted the conversation the few times you had asked. But Jesse, he had never once even acknowledged the fact he had a mother, not even to you. Just as he feared, as he opened up to you about Ana, so many thoughts and feelings overwhelmed him, pouring out as he remembered so many things he had buried away for so long.

“My mom left when I was five. I still remember the way she looked at me that day. Like I was some piece of trash she wanted to throw into a burn pile. I begged her to take me with her, but she said I had too much of my father in me. That I'd end up just like him.” Rolling out of your grasp to lay on his back, Jesse's arm rested over his face, hiding his eyes from you as he drudged up memories that had lay dormant for so many years. “I met you about a year later. I was so full of rage and pain. I tried so hard to push you away, guess I was just afraid of being hurt again. But you never left. No matter what I said, no matter what I did to you, the next day you'd greet me with a smile and a wave. Like nothing had happened.” In your mind, you saw a six year old Jesse, dirty and tattered, always lashing out, always getting into fights. But you had never minded. He had never seemed that bad to you. “I made a lot of stupid decisions when I was young, but you were always there, standing by my side. I can't imagine how bad off I'da been without you.” uncovering his face, glossy brown eyes looked up at you, sad and remorseful as they studied you. “If it weren't for you, my mother would have been right. I would have ended up just some good for nothing nobody, drunk in some alley.”

“Jesse, what's going on? This isn't like you. Where is all this coming from?” You were frightened by the look in his eyes, so weak, so vulnerable. A part of Jesse you had never seen. Laying there in your bed, he seemed so frail, spilling all his deepest, most personal thoughts. Thoughts he was afraid even to admit to himself most of the time.

“Overwatch if falling apart.” He continued, gaze shifting to stare at the ceiling. “Jack and Gabe are at each others throats more then ever. There's so much in fighting. It's chaos. Nothing makes Gabe happy anymore. He's always sulking and picking fights with people. He's been doing all this secret stuff that's coming out, stuff I'm not sure I can support, even if he was doing them for the right reasons.” As Jesse's hands clenched around the sheets, you moved to lay your small hands over his own, fingers barely able to wrap around the back of his hand. “The man is the closest thing I've ever had to a father, I want to stand with him, but he's going down such a dark path. I'm just not sure I can follow him there.” You gave his hands a squeeze as Jesse closed his eyes again, fighting some internal battle as he was overcome by the struggles of his current situation. “I finally got to a good place, I can't go back to that life of hate and anger. I was so lost in it when I was younger. I cursed the world for letting my mom leave, sticking me with that bastard. All that hatred was eating me alive. I can't go back there. I- I just cant follow him there.” Leaning over him, you lay a soft kiss on his forehead, bringing him back to you before he became too lost in his problems.

“Then don't.” Combing your fingers through his hair, you were comforted by how he leaned into your touch, welcoming your reassurance as you gave his lips a soft peck. “If Overwatch is in as much disarray as you say, maybe it's time you move on. You need to take care of yourself. There's plenty of good you can do outside of Overwatch.”

“I'm just not sure I can abandon everyone. They're like family to me.”

“Jesse, Overwatch is going down. With or without you. You need to protect yourself. Otherwise, you'll be dragged into the middle of things.” He knew you were right, knew he couldn't stay. He had known that for about a year now. But for almost half his life now, Overwatch had been is world. It was scary, they idea of leaving, finding something new. Where would he go? What would he do? There was still so much in his past he wanted to atone for. With Overwatch, he felt he could do that. He could redeem himself from his past crimes. What was he supposed to do now?

As he lay there, mulling over all the possibilities in his head, you waited patiently. Petting his hair, you offered silent support as Jesse struggled with his conflict. Finally, after several moments of deep meditation, brown eyes met yours, vulnerable and sincere.

“No matter what happens, you'll stay with me, right?”

“Always.” Leaning down, you took his lips, his fingers tangling in your hair as he reciprocated. It was a needy kiss, as if he was looking for all the answers to his questions in that contact. But as he pulled away, you were sure he found at least one of them.

“Alright. I'll set out tomorrow. I'll get my stuff and tell Morrison I'm leaving. Then I'm coming home.” Sitting up, he wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as he kissed along your neck. You let out a giggle, his scruff tickling your neck. “Come on, darlin'. I'll help you with those chores.” Climbing out of bed, you admired the man's butt as he walked out off the door, stocking off to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee.


	9. Hard Times

Standing at the sink, you washed potatoes as you decided what you wanted for dinner. Clint laid curled up at your feet, dozing off. He had become lazy in his old age, opting to stay close to you and sleep most of the time, though he still got bursts of energy, particularly when Jesse was home.

It had been two weeks since you had heard from the cowboy, but with him new profession, that wasn't abnormal. After Jesse had left Overwatch, he had stayed with you. There were people that weren't too happy about his leaving, people Jesse said could cause him a lot to trouble. Luckily, Jesse had never told anyone about you, about his visits, about where you lived. Taking advantage of this, he stayed with you.

That is, until the fall of Overwatch. You were with him when he heard, you had both seen it on the news. Jesse hadn't broken down, not immediately at least. As the names of the dead flashed across the screen, you had seen it, clear as day. Gabriel Reyes. You looked over at Jesse, not sure what to expect. Tears. Pain. Sorrow. But instead, he just stood there, stoic and somber. For the rest of the day he remained like that, unwilling to talk about what had happened. But that night, in the darkness of your room, in the comfort of your bed, he broke.

Clutching at you with a desperate grip, Jesse fell apart in your arms. You had never seen him like this. When you had buried his father two years ago, he didn't shed a single tear, showed no sorry. Simply threw the dirt upon his coffin and walked away. But now, the toughest man you had ever known lay crying soft, broken sobs in your arms, tears running free as he clung to you for dear life.  
It was two months after that night that Jesse finally ventured beyond the safety of your land. With Overwatch gone, he figured he'd be safe to go out into the world again, seeking his own form of justice. That's when Jesse started bounty hunting.

He was good at it. Taking out criminals and turning them in, dead or alive. He was making some good money. Sadly, it meant it was harder to judge when he would be home. Depending on who he set his sights on, it could be a week or two, or it could be a couple months. But he seemed happy. He felt like he was making a difference again. And with every bad guy he captured, he seemed to be healing. Slowly, his laid back attitude returned, his flirtatious smile easier to come by.

You missed the days when he would call often, but your time with him was savored, with Jesse making a point of bringing you presents and showering you with affections when he returned. But despite the occasional loneliness, you were happy. Jesse, the reckless boy who raised hell as a youth had now grown up into the man you always knew he would be. And, even if only in spirit at times, he was by your side. You couldn't be prouder of him.

As the roar of an old motorcycle grew louder, a large smile grew across you face. At your feet, Clint jumped up, barking excitedly as he pranced around the kitchen.

“Daddy's home.” You told him, abandoning your work, opting to meet Jesse at the door.  
Opening the screen door, you enjoyed the light breeze as the cowboy smacked the kickstand into place with his boot. He now wore a bright red serape around his shoulders, going along with that silly hat to complete his cowboy look.

“Welcome home.” You called, walking down the steps to meet him as he swung his leg over his bike. Looking over at you, his eyes were tired, distant as he puffed on his cigar. As you came to stand before him, your arms wrapped around him, hugging him tight as you enjoyed his warmth. It was a moment or two before the man reciprocated, his hand splaying across your back as he nuzzled into the top of your head.

“Hey.” His voice was quite, empty as he responded. Rubbing your hands across his back, you nuzzled into his chest, hoping he would hold you closer.

“You have perfect timing. I was just about to start dinner. Chicken and mashed potatoes sound good to you?” his grip on you back tightened, arm pulling you close as you smiled into his shirt. “Or I could make some chicken and dumplings. I know you love those.” Your smile dropped and the man's body enveloped you, leaning over your smaller frame as he pulled you painfully close, his body racked with small tremors. “Jesse? Jesse, what's wrong?” frightened, you tried to pull away, tried to get a look at the man's face, but his grip was too tight.

“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.” He muttered, breathing forced as he clung to you. With a harsh shove, you were able to force him off you, hands moving up to cup his cheeks as you stared into his eyes. They were fearful, distressed as he breathed heavy.

“Jesse, what's wrong? What happened? Please tell me.” But he couldn't. Closing his eyes, he pulled away from your touch, turning away as he grimaced. You were afraid, mind conjuring images of terrible things as you wondered what had a hold of the cowboy. But as you reached out to him, you realized what had him so shooken.

“Jesse! Where is your arm?” As you pulled back his serape, you got a clear look at the mans left arm. Or at least, what left of it.

From the elbow down, nothing remained where there had once been a strong and dexterous limb. At the end of his bicep was a gnarled mess of scar tissue. Your heart stopped at the sight, stomach tightening as you stared at what had become of his arm.

“I'm so sorry.” Pulling away, Jesse hid the stub behind his back, eyes filled with shame as he stepped away from you. “I got reckless. I didn't know there were so many of them.” His voice had a quiver to it that shook you to your core. Moving forward, your arms were wrapped around his neck before he could take another step back.

“Oh Jesse, hunny.” Pulling him close, his hat fell to the ground as you ran your fingers through his hair, an act that always calmed him when he was upset. “It's ok, Jesse. It's going to be ok.” The man remained unmoving, unsure whether to push you away or cling to you as the feeling of your hand petting him lowered his defenses. Finally, the man gave into you, good arm squeezing you as he buried his face into your neck.

“I can't shoot anymore. I can't be a hero. I've let you down.” You struggled to support him as the man leaned more of his weight on you. Pulling back, you looked the man in the eyes, frightened by the hopelessness that hid just behind those brown orbs.

“Jesse, no. You could never let me down. I am so proud of all the things you've done. We'll get past this. You're alive. Your home. That's all I care about. Jesse, I love you.” Jesse wanted to believe you, wanted to trust that things would be alright, that one day he would look back and see this as just a bump in the road, but right now, in the moment, overcome by his loss, he didn't see how that could ever be possible.

He was damaged goods now. Half a man. It had been a struggle for him just to get back to you. He had never before had difficult riding his bike, but with fifteen pounds missing from one side, he struggled to balance. And his livelihood? He could still shoot, but with one hand, he couldn't dead eye enemies, couldn't fight off opponents in hand to hand combat. And god had reloading been a bitch without his left hand. He was useless. He couldn't protect anyone. Couldn't redeem himself. Couldn't provide for you. What good was he without his arm? There was nothing he could possibly give you.

“Well, I guess it got rid of that tattoo you hated so much.” His attempt at humor fell flat as you lead him into the house, Clint waiting eagerly at the door to meet you.

The next couple of days were a struggle for Jesse. Every day tasks now far more difficult as he attempted to relearn simple things that he had always taken for granted. Getting dressed, brushing his teeth, making food, going for runs, showering, even lighting his cigar was a challenge. You helped his as best you could, rearranging the house to make things easier for him, buying him cloths with out buttons on them, doing an little thing you could to make things easier for him.

After finding him angrily fumbling to open a jar of pickles, you had taken over all the cooking, too many food containers proving near impossible to open single handedly. It had been so long since you had seen this much anger in Jesse. Everything frustrated him,

Though he knew his arm was gone, knew there was nothing bellow his elbow, no one had bothered to tell his brain that. Many nights he lay up awake, tossing and turning as the phantom pains convinced him that his left arm was trapped in an ever tightening vice, electricity surging painfully through his fingertips. He tried not to wake you, not wanting to bother you with his shortcomings. But more nights then he'd like, his grunts and groans of pain would cause you to stir. His arm was gone, wasn't that enough. Why did he have to suffer this pain in addition to his loss. You would stay up with him, massaging the wound in an attempt to make the pain dissipate, but he never had the heart to tell you it did nothing.

Once, while making love in the kitchen, he had had you bent over the table enjoying the feeling of you for the first time since he had returned. But as he reached to pull you back, he lost his balance, toppling over as his imaginary left arm reached out to catch him. Unfortunately, his chin collided with the very real counter. Embarrassed and frustrated, a flurry of obscenities filled the kitchen. But you were patient with him, kneeling beside him as you kissed his jaw, moving down to kiss the stump he cursed as words of bitterness and self loathing gave way to insecurity and fear.

That was the worst part. That his arm never really felt gone. Every morning he woke up, thinking he could lean over and stroke your cheek with his missing hand. He still tried to pick thing up with his left arm, tried to put on his clothes with the imaginary hand, reaching for his cigar with his stump.

One day, as you were up on a stool putting grocery's away in the top cupboard, your foot slipped, causing you to fall back. Jesse saw, lunging out to catch you, to save you from a hard fall. Only, it was his left arm that reached out. As your body smacked against the hard floor, a groan of pain escaping you, it all came crashing down on him.

“God fucking damnit!!” Jesse yelled, startling you as he stood over you, face contorted in anger and grief. “Mother fucking bitch! Useless piece of- Shit fucking ass fuck!” His curses stopped making sense as he shouted out every foul word and angry phrase he had ever heard in a jumble of slurs. You were frightened by his anger, not sure how to react.

“I-it's alright Jesse! I'm alright.” But your words were lost to him, unheard as he sunk deeper into his own self hatred and despair.

“Why am I so useless? If I just had my fucking arm!” As anger consumed him, he felt ready to explode, needing to lash out at something, anything. Chairs went flying, glasses shattering to scatter across the floor as the table was overturned. You scooted away frantically, terrified at his outburst. “You can't even fucking protect her!” Turning, he slammed his fist into the counter with a sickening crack, and you could see the pain it caused in his face, despite the anger that still raged.

“Jesse!” you cried out, jumping up to drape over him as he fell to his knees, his fury leaving him drained.

“You're worthless. Fucking worthless.” he muttered, too lost in his pain to recognize your touch. “Everyone would have been better off if you had died that day.” Your heart broke, tears unrestrained as you clutched fiercely at the man.

“Don't say that! Don't you dare say that! I need you, Jesse! You can't leave me alone like that! You promised you'd always come back! I love you, Jesse! You have to stay with me!” Shouting, your body shielded him from the world, your tears falling into his lap as you sobbed. Through the cloud of despair and sorrow, your words started to reach him as you whimpered in his ear. “Please don't say that Jesse. I could never smile again if I lost you. We'll get through this. We'll be happy again. Stay with me. Please, just stay with me Jesse.” Overcome by his actions, by the reality of his life now, the man went to bury his face in his hands, but was met by only one. You were tired, in every aspect of the word, but still you comforted him as best you could, holding him, saying whatever you thought might reach him, promising him future happiness that you weren't sure you believed yourself.

Eventually, Jesse let you guide him to bed, undressing him before the both of you crawled into bed. In your arms, Jesse finally found rest from his troubles, his exhaustion so overpowering that even the phantom pains couldn't keep him up. As you lay there, hands rubbing over his body in an attempt at comfort, you wondered how long you could keep this up. How long could you endure this man's suffering. As you drifted off to sleep, one thought lingered in your mind, indomitable and dangerous.

This couldn't continue.

Despite your overwhelming fatigue, you got up early the next morning before the sun had even thought about raising, finishing up your chores in time to cook breakfast. The food was prepared and laid out on the table before you went to wake Jesse. The man begrudgingly rolled out of bed, not even bothering to get dressed as he trudged to the kitchen, falling heavy in one of the chairs as he gave a small noise of protest. The cowboy didn't say a word as he ate. You weren't sure if his silence stemmed from exhaustion or embarrassment or a lack of things to say, but a part of you was grateful for the quiet.

As you finished up your food, you left your plate in the sink, telling the man you would wash them later. If you left the dish there, he would be less likely to try to wash his on his own, making things easier on both of you. Giving him a kiss on the forehead, you told him that you would be going into town, and weren't sure when you would be back. The man said nothing as he bit into a piece of toast, his eyes distant and hollow. A part of you felt bad for leaving him like that, but you weren't sure what you could do to help at this point.

You had never been good at comforting people. You knew how to deal with wound, knew how to address snake bites, knew how to handle broken bones, hell you could even perform tracheotomies. Emotions however, were a different story. Reading people had never been a strong suit of yours, often opting to be alone instead of interacting with others. Jesse had always been the exception to the rule.

The cowboys directness and unreserved character had always put you at ease. With Jesse, you knew where he stood. You didn't have to read him, didn't have to analyze or dissect, it was always written all over his face. If he liked someone, you knew it, if he didn't, then everybody knew it. It had always been so easy. But the Jesse you saw now, the Jesse that laid on your couch all day, the Jesse that showed no interest in the things that used to bring him such joy, the Jesse that never smiled, he was a stranger to you.

The bell on the door clanged a cheerful tune as you walked through the door, unfamiliar smells greeting you as you took a deep breath. The shop was empty. Not surprising on a Sunday morning. Folks around here took church very seriously. You should have been there right now. But instead you were here, doing this. Nervously, you took a few more steps into the shop.

This had been a candy shop when you were a kid. Mr. Mercer had owned the shop running it since the beginning of time, or so you had thought as a child. Whenever your grades had been good enough you dad used to give you a couple bucks and let you go down to this shop to pick up a treat. You're mother had always been strictly against sweets, so those rare delights had been a secret, just for you and your father. But Mr. Mercer had passed away many years ago and with no children to carry on his work, the shop had been sold.

As you walked up to the counter, looking around for any signs of life, you heard a familiar voice call out to you from some back office.

“Coming. I'm coming.” As a door behind the counter opened, a man emerged that you hadn't seen in nearly a decade.

As you stood at the other side of the counter, Mark was momentarily frozen in place, eyes wide with surprise as he recognized you. You offered a weak smile, not sure how to approach the situation. It had been nine years since you had last seen the man, he was older looking now. He had changed his hair, and grown a neatly trimmed mustache, it was different from the clean shaven face you remembered, but you liked it. He was just as handsome as you remembered.

“Hey.” You said softly, giving a small wave. You honestly weren't sure how this was going to go. You wouldn't be surprised if he turned you away.

“Now there's a face I haven't seen in a long time.” Stepping around the counter, he was in front of you, holding you, before you knew it. His hug was warm, comforting. Returning the gesture, you felt like no time had passed at all, instantly picking up on the years of closeness and understanding you had shared with the man. “It's been too long.” He muttered, giving you one last squeeze before stepping back.

“It has. You seem well. I hear the shop is doing good. Everyone at church talks about what a success you've become.” You shared comfortable smiles, watching each other as you picked things back up.

“It's an honest living. I'm afraid everybody likes to blow my 'success' a bit out of proportion though.” His eye's were bright as he looked around at the place “What about you? I hear your running Mrs. Jodeen's ranch now.”

“Yeah, it's a lot of hard work, but I love it. The house is payed off and the cattle bring in good money every season, so I'm pretty well set.” Mark had always been so easy to talk to, so good at making people comfortable.

“I'll be honest with you, I never thought I'd see you again.” It was a sobering look that overtook his face, eyes soft and warm as they looked at you.

“Well, if I'm being honest with you, I didn't come here for 'just' a visit.” Mark seemed intrigued by your words, leaning back against the counter as you waited for you to continue speaking. For better or worse, you wanted to give this a shot.

 

It was dark by the time you got home, the stars making their appearance one by one in the navy sky as you walked up the creaking steps. As you walked in the front door, you saw Jesse, a lump on the couch as he watched tv, his serape draped over him so he wouldn't have to see the stump that plagued him. Giving him a kiss on top of his head, you ran your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp as you leaned over him.

“How was your day?” a raised beer glass, mostly empty, was all you got in response. “Is the pain bad?” Closing his eyes, Jesse gave a small nod. You knew when he didn't speak it was bad news. That was when it hurt the most. “Want me to give you a massage?” You asked, already starting to kneed the muscles of his shoulders with your trim fingers. Shaking his head, Jesse continued to stare at the screen, unable, or unwilling to make eye contact. And tonight, you were ok with that. “Is there anything I can do for you?” Again he shook his head. Giving him another soft kiss on the head, you wandered into the kitchen to do the dishes that had accumulated throughout the day.

After that day, you started to go out more and more. It seemed like every two or three days, you would run into town, staying out for large portions of the day before coming home with groceries or supplies for the ranch. Jesse didn't like it, not that he would admit that. He was starting to feel lonely whenever you left, having nothing to do but lounge on the couch, watching tv and drinking. He couldn't even rewatch his favorite old cowboy movies, the memory of what his life used to be too fresh, too painful to revisit. He wanted you here, wanted to see you smile, hear your laugh, know you were still happy, even if saddled with the pathetic man he had become, but he could never bring himself to voice these thoughts. That's why, whenever you came home, he just lay there, unable to speak as you went about your business.

After a while, you were spending more time in town then you were at home. Most days, you'd walk in the door long after dark, not even having purchases to show for your day spent out. Now, Jesse was never book smart, but he was people smart. He knew you weren't going shopping, weren't running errands. But he played it off like he saw nothing, not having the conviction to confront you.

As his days of beer turned into days of whiskey, Jesse couldn't shake the feeling that you were avoiding him. Did he disgust you now? Were you tired of his endless neediness? Tired of a man who couldn't take care of himself? Did you no longer yearn for him the way you used to?

Desperately, Jesse tried to drown out these thoughts, reminding himself that you had always been there, would always be there. You were the one constant in his life. Somewhere along the way, Jesse had become aware of the distinct possibility that you were cheating on him. But he would always force the thought out of his mind, the idea too frightening for him to face. Over and over again he would reassure himself, you would never do that to him.

But as time passed, and you came to be gone every day now, he could no longer deny the obvious. Every day you came home with a light in your eyes and a bright smile, the same look he used to inspire in you. You didn't smell the same anymore, a faint, unfamiliar odor always lingering on your skin.

When he did work up the nerve to ask you where you had been, you would ramble off some vague excuse, unable to meet his eyes. His nights were spend sleeping on the couch, unable to stand the smell that lingered on you, his days drowned in whiskey as he sat in that lonely house.

Not even bothering to get dressed anymore, Jesse spent all of his time in boxers and a t-shirt, showering seldom, and eating only the premade meals you left for him. The drinking didn't help the phantom pains, but it helped the emotion pain, dulling him till he didn't care anymore.

Deep down, Jesse couldn't even deny that a part of him couldn't blame you for seeking comfort in another man. He was worthless. Nothing but a shell of the hero he used to be. You had once dreamed of greatness for him, but now he couldn't deliver on that. He knew you were disgusted by him, repulsed. Lord knew he was. He had nothing to offer you. He should just leave, but he was too much of a coward to even do that. You were the only home he had, and as much as he knew you'd be better off without him, he was too scared to leave you, to lose you. So there he sat, planted in that couch, drinking his problems away as he stared blankly at the tv, trying to forget about the useless sack of shit he had become.

That's how you found him, already halfway to drunk as you walked in the door, a joyous smile on your lips and a song in your heart. Carrying in a large box, you walked over to the cowboy, standing in front of the tv so he couldn't ignore you like he always did.

“Hey Jesse.” Your voice was chipper as the man continued to ignore you, tipping back his whiskey bottle as he took another swig. “Jesse, I want to talk to you.” Taking the remote, you turned the tv off, snatching the bottle from his hand.

“Hey.” He protested, finally making eye contact as he glared at you. Readjusting the cumbersome box, you were unhindered by the cruelty in his eyes.

“Don't ignore me Jesse.” He grimaced slightly at being called out, instinctively firing back, going on the defensive.

“What's in the box? A present from your new boyfriend.” He regretted his words, this not being how he wanted to start this conversation. In fact he didn't even want to have this conversation.

“What?” You questioned, flustered and confused as Jesse's eyes left yours, not feeling prepared for this.

“Just leave me alone.” He muttered, reaching for the remote, but you held it out of reach.

“No, Jesse. This is important.”

 _She's leaving me. She's going to kick me out. I'm no use to her anymore and she's finally had enough. It was just a matter of time._ But as you put the large box in his lap, your eyes were warm, excited even as they looked at him.

“What is this?” Jesse asked in confusion.

“Open it.” you prompted, hands clasped together as you watched him eagerly.

Jesse gave you a puzzled look, but when you offered him no further answer, he gave in. As he removed the lid, he just stared at the contents of the box, so many questions swirling in his head.

“It's a prosthetic.” You announced, unnerved by the cowboy's silence as he just stared.

In the box, on top of a pillow, lay a metal arm. Shiny and pristine, besides the lack of skin, it was so human looking it was almost creepy. “I wanted to have it sooner, but there were parts that had to be specially ordered. It should do everything a real hand can and a few more things. It's made out of this special metal that's really strong, but light weight, so it wont be too heavy for you.” Jesse ran his fingers along the back of the hand, across the skull on the forearm. “The skull I had added as a decoration.” you admitted, a little embarrassed. “I thought it would look bad ass and intimidating. Sorry if it's a bit silly. We can have it changed if you don't like it. But this was made specifically with fighting in mind. It's super strong. You should be able to able to tear through steel with just this hand, or so I'm told. And its quick, so you'll be able to dead eye people again. You can continue bounty hunting if you want. You can shoot again.”

“You had this made?” Jesse asked quietly, face still down turned as he looked over the present.

“Yeah.” you answered nervously. You had been anticipating more excitement at the prospect of regaining his livelihood. “I went to a robotics engineer, but I oversaw everything to make sure it was exactly what you needed.”

“I though you were cheating.” you were awe struck as Jesse looked up at you, vulnerable and questioning as tears ran the length of his face. His eyes held so much sorrow, so much fear, finally letting it all loose as he admitted his deepest worry to you. You hadn't realized he was plagued by these thoughts, hadn't considered that while you were out collecting parts and pieces for this, he was at home, alone to stew in his own fears and self loathing. You had been so absorbed in making this perfect, you had forgotten to tend to the man, leaving him to his own devices as you neglected him. “I thought you found another man. A real man.” Before you knew it, he was standing, the metal arm falling to the ground as he wrapped himself around you, burying you in his embrace. “I thought I lost you.” His voice was meek, fearful as he muttered into your hair.

“Oh, Jesse.” quickly embracing him, you rubbed your hands all over him, filled with remorse for the torment he had suffered at your absence. “I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. There's no one I want but you.” Kissing all over his face, you wiped away his tears, looking deep into his eyes and regretting the pain you had caused him. “I'm so sorry I left you alone. I'm here now. I won't leave you alone again.”

Jesse cursed himself for the things he had thought, the images his mind had conjured. All this time he had let himself believe that you were finding your comfort in the arms of another, but you had been slaving away to bring him this present. Present wasn't the right word. You had given him his life back. Not only had you stood by him through thick and thin, not only had you supported him at his lowest, you had made him whole again, working tirelessly to restore him to his former glory. Like so many times before, you had never given up on him, even when he had. How many times now had you saved him from himself?

“Thank you.” Before you could respond, he had your lips, kissing you deeply, all the love and passion and appreciation you'd been missing over the last two months pouring out in that one kiss. As his hand began to wander your body, you felt light headed, his kiss taking your breath away as he relearned every inch of you.

“J-Jesse” you gasped into his mouth, fighting for air as he pulled at your cloths. “We still need to have it attached.” You broke from his lips just long enough to protest before he reclaimed you, making it clear he wasn't letting you go any time soon.

“It can wait.” He growled into your mouth. “I'm not done showing you how thankful I am.” Picking you up, he never broke the kiss as he carried you off to the bedroom.

Jesse had been more lively then you had expected. But finally, three rounds and one shower later you found yourself walking into the small robotics shop. You hadn't yet told the cowboy who would be attaching his new arm. You knew it would have been polite to tell Jesse back at the house, but you had worried if he knew, he would refuse to come. You knew he wasn't that childish anymore, but his spirits were so high now, you wanted to stall ruining that for as long as you could. A part of you hoped he might not even remember Mark. He hadn't recognized him when last they had seen each other, and that had been over ten years ago. Maybe you would get lucky.

As you entered the shop, a few of the customers spared you a glance, eyes widening as they saw Jesse. He had become a bit of a legend around town. Elders still saw him as the hotheaded brat that raised hell in their quiet little town, but the youth only knew him as one of the heroes of Overwatch. You hoped Jesse wouldn't notice their stares as you both walked back to the counter. You lucked out. Carrying his new treasure in his good arm, Jesse was too lost in his own daydreams of renewed heroism to notice the eyes that followed him. It was so good to see him smiling again.

As you approached the counter, you saw Mark talking with Mr. Bannin, a local farmer. Looking over, Mark offered you a soft smile, giving you a brief wave and holding up a finger to signal he would just be a minute before returning to his conversation. You gave a soft nod, grateful that he was still making time for you despite it being an hour past your agreed upon time. You were startled as Jesse suddenly grabbed at you awkwardly, almost dropping the box that held his arm as he pulled you towards him.

“What's he doing here?” Jesse watched Mark untrustingly, body ridged as he stood on guard. Biting your lip, you cursed Jesse's untimely memory.

“Who?” You knew it was a stupid question, but a part of you still hoped this could be avoided.

“That's the pansy boy you used to go with. Why is he here?” As Jesse looked down at you, you could see it in his eyes, there was no way around this. Moving to stand in front of him, you shushed him, not wanting to draw attention to yourself. The people of this town were kind and friendly, but they could be nosy.

“He owns this shop. Mark is a robotics engineer.” You explained, unnerved by how untrusting Jesse's eyes were.

“You mean this is the guy you've been with this last month?”

“Jesse, please, don't make a scene. Mark worked really hard to make this for you. And he didn't charge me half of what it was worth. He did us a really big favor.” The cowboy grew quiet, though his face was still stern, eyes watching the other man intently.

Finally, with a laugh and a pat on the back, Mark left the farmer, walking over to the two of you as he offered a friendly smile.

“Long time no see, McCree.” he greeted the other warmly, though he did not extend a hand for the cowboy to shake, recognizing his lack of a free hand and not wanting to offend him. Stepping closer to you, Jesse offered the other no smile, instead pursing his lips as he tried not to scowl at the man.

“Yeah. It has been.” He muttered, his disdain clear to everyone in the shop.

“Well if you want to step in back I have everything all set up for us.” Mark paid the man's attitude no mind, waving you both towards a back room. Jesse rested what remained of his left arm across your back, ushering you forward as he eyed Mark.

“Come on, darlin'.” You winced as he put extra emphasis on the pet name. After all these years, Jesse was still possessive of you when he felt threatened. You weren't sure if you were annoyed, or a little happy that after all these years, that part of him still remained.

The room you walked into was clearly a workshop. Strange tools and parts hung everywhere, shiny and foreign to you. In the center of the room was a work bench Mark had cleared off and covered with a tarp, clearly where he intended to perform the 'operation'.

“If you could sit up here for me, please.” Patting the table, Mark pulled over a tray of tools you didn't recognize.

Mark Johnson Sr. had been a doctor. You remembered many dinners where he would regale you with stories of tricky medical procedures he had done. You weren't surprised that his son had picked up a lot of those skills. Or at least enough to perform a simple prosthetic attachment. You weren't sure what all was involved with it, but you knew with modern medicine, it wouldn't be a very invasive procedure.

Placing the box on the table, Jesse hopped up, his legs swinging out like a child as he scooted back. Once he was settled his hand reached out, taking yours and pulling you close as his eyes watched Mark. You gave a sigh. You couldn't say you were surprised.

“This shouldn't take too long. I'm just going to use a local anesthetic. The procedure itself shouldn't hurt, but sometimes when attaching the mechanics to the nerve endings it can cause your phantom pains to flare up. Most of the time the anesthetic helps with that.” Jesse still watched the other untrusting, eyeing the shot he pulled out. “Can I get you to take your shirt off?” As Jesse's eyes moved to you, you knew where this was going.

“You want to help me, sweetheart?” You knew if he wanted to, he could undo the buttons himself. The cowboy just wanted you to undress him in front of the only other man you had ever dated. You had half a mind to refused, but it had been so long since Jesse had been this lively, you didn't want to see that falter.

Moving to stand between his legs, you pulled is shirt out of his pants, nimble fingers making quick work of the buttons. It didn't take long, but you were distinctly aware that Jesse was giving Mark the biggest arrogant grin while you stripped him of his shirt.

“Thanks, babe.” Leaning down, Jesse captured you lips in a kiss and you knew it was more for the other man than you.

“Alright, if I can get you to lay back.” Mark was unfazed by the cowboy's show, busying himself with his work. Feeling sufficiently triumphant, Jesse let you go, turning to lay down across the table.

Over the past month of drinking and living on the couch, Jesse's muscles had lost some of their tone, and he had gained a little weight around the midsection, but as he laid back on the makeshift operating table, you could tell he was sucking in his gut, trying to look impressive as the other man studied his wound. It was almost cute. Staying by Jesse's side, you held his hand as Mark administered the shot.  
In a minute or two, when his patients arm was fully numb, the operation proceeded.

It was fascinating to watch. No cuts, no intrusions, no blood. You had no clue what was going on as Mark used all sorts of strange and foreign tools. A part of you wanted him to explain what he was doing, but you didn't ask, not wanting to slow things down.

You were surprised with Jesse's patience. Never one for sitting still, the cowboy didn't squirm or fidget through the whole course of the hour long procedure. Briefly, you wondered if he had grown accustomed to sitting for medical attention from his time in Overwatch.

“All done.” Mark announced, giving you both a smile as he stood up, stretching his back. Sitting up, Jesse admired the piece of metal that was now attached to him. Narrowing his eyes as if consecrating heavily, the cowboy stared at the hand. With the squeak of metal against metal, the fingers moved slightly. Jesse's face lit up.

“HA!” He exclaimed, clenching and unclenching the hand as looked at it from every angle. Delight danced in his eyes as he toyed with the dexterity of the hand.

“I would be careful what you use that hand on for a while. It possesses more strength than any human, you could easily break things or hurt people. So give yourself time to adjust to the feeling of it.” Mark smiled warmly at the cowboy's joy.

“Thank you Mark.” Your eyes were soft as they regarded the other. He had done so much for you. You knew you would never really be able to repay him for what he had given you.

“Glad I could help.” He spared you one last affectionate glance before addressing Jesse. “You call me if you have any trouble with it. I can make any adjustments you need.” Offering up a hand, you were surprised when Jesse eagerly took it, giving it a hearty shake as he grinned at the other.

“I'll keep that in mind.” With that, Mark left to attend his shop, leaving the two of you alone.

You helped the cowboy get dressed. Not cause he needed you to, but because he was too distracted by his new limb to bother putting his shirt back on. Guading him out of the store and to the street, Jesse was all smiles as he flexed his mechanical arm.

“So what would you like to do first? We could go for a ride? Go fishi-” Six shots rang out, causing you to jump as the loud noise interrupted the quiet of the town. Quickly, men nearby drew their guns, women ducking as they looked around, children scurried off, and six birds fell hard to the ground.

Looking over you saw Jesse, eyes bright with glee, his gun in his hand as he studied the fowl he had dead eyed. He almost looked crazed, his smile wide and manic.

“Jesse!” you shouted, smacking him in the chest as he laughed with delight.

“I still got it.” You wanted to stay mad at him, to lecture him for causing such a commotion, but as the man smiled that child like smile, you couldn't bring yourself to reprimand him.

“At least wait till we get home. You're going to have the whole town in an uproar.” Holstering his gun, put his arm around your shoulder, smile never fading as he pulled you close.

“Sorry, darlin'. I'll behave. I promise.”

You managed to get him home without further incident, Jesse whistling a happy tune the whole way. Once you had returned, you broke out the ammo. Taking all the empty beer bottles and whiskey jugs, you started lining them up on the fence post for the cowboy to shoot at. Just like you had all those years ago. You wondered if Jesse would ever get tired of smiling as the hours rolled by, the man shooting trick shot after trick shot. He was impressive.

As the day faded into night, Jesse showed no sign of quitting. You could still see his glowing grin illuminated by the light of his cigar as shot anything you put up for him. Finally, after hours of shooting, you approached the cowboy, laying a hand on his shoulder.

“Jesse, it's pretty late. We should get some rest.” In a flash, his gun was holstered, his cigar thrown away before both his arms encircled you as he moved in close. Gentle kisses were lane all over your face and neck, his hands wandering you as he pressed against you.

“Thank you.” His voice was soft, but his words carried a weight to them that left you startled. “You always stand by me. You've given me everything. I really would be nothing without you. And here again, you've saved me.” Taking your lips, he kissed you so deeply you were forced to lean back. “I love you.” Wrapping your arms around his neck, you returned the kiss, tears of joy coming to your eyes as you regained the Jesse you knew and loved. He was back. “Now lets get inside. I want to thank you properly again.”


	10. Proposal

“I haven't worn a dress in years.” You muttered, pulling at the skirt of your sundress as you walked down the sidewalk.

“I like it. You look cute.” Jesse grinned, grabbing your hand so you would stop fidgeting with the fabric. “Sides, this is a date. Aren't girls supposed to dress up for their man?”

“Oh, is regular me not good enough for the great McCree?” You teased, giving him a playful eye as you squeezed his hand.

“Well I wasn't going to say anything, but you really have let yourself go.” He smirked, nudging you with his shoulder.

“Yup, I'm just a giant slob. I'm surprised you haven't left me yet.” Bumping him with your hip, you tried to suppress your smile.

“Well, I was thinking I'd get a few drinks in you and sneak off. You'd never find me out in the desert.”

“Oh good. Then I might finally get to catch up on all those books I've been meaning to read.” Slipping yourself under his arm, you enjoyed the smell of his cigar and aftershave as you rested your head against his chest.

“So it's settled, tonight we'll part ways, and never see each other again.” Puffing on his cigar, a cloud of smoke was left dissipating behind you as he rubbed your shoulder.

“Sounds like a plan.” You both laughed, a hearty and soulful sound as you walked into the bar.

You were there on a date. Jesse had returned home a few days ago from a very difficult hunt. Some criminal that had been terrorizing the southwest for months now. The reward had been handsome, and Jesse had come home wanting to celebrate. So, after several nights of drinking and sex, he had decided he wanted to take you out. Fancy restaurants weren't really either of yours thing. And although you enjoyed long rides on his motorcycle, it was time to round up the cattle to ship off for slaughter, you had to stay at the ranch.

So, after talking it over, you both had decided that the best thing to do was take a trip into town and go to the local bar. Jesse had joked the whole way there about how this would be his first time drinking there legally.

Walking in the door, the place was lively for a Wednesday night. It wasn't anything fancy. Every small town in America had one, with a pool table in the corner and the regulars drinking at the bar, the same oldies playing in the background. The atmosphere was spirited, some men in the corner laughing as they played poker. You could hear one of them regaling the other with some exaggerated story. You smiled softly, enjoying the companionship the men shared.

Sitting up at the bar, Jesse ordered you both drinks, knowing you well enough to get you your favorite. Looking over the bar, you could tell he was scoping out the place, making sure it was safe. People in town had come to accept the cowboy. The elders still gave him distrustful looks, but the for the most part let the two of you be, acknowledging that Jesse was a changed man. You were glad to see him home. As much as he used to curse this town, desperate to escape it, it warmed your heart to see him living here, content, happy even.

“You ever had an angry ball? Back when Maggy was working here, she'd sneak 'em to me. God, they'd put me right under the table.” Jesse chuckled, looking down at his drink as his hair fell to obscure his eyes from your view.

“Can't say I have. I guess I spent one too many night picking you up after you'd had your fill to be much of a drinker. I stick with what I know.” The man looked over at you, a smile on his face, but a sheepish look in his eyes as he recalled what little he could remember of those nights.

One night came to mind. The first night he had seen you after joining the Deadlock gang. He had been drinking all day when he decided to put the bullet on your windowsill. And despite it all, you had come to see him. Trudging out through the cold and the darkness, just for him. And what had he given you in return? Insults.

He had hated the way the boys had touched you, hated the idea of anyone else thinking they could have you. But he refused to let them know you meant anything to him, wanted to appear tough in front of the other gang members. Then to further cement his stupidity, he had drunkenly made a pass at you, slipping his tongue in your mouth to remind you that you were his. As the cowboy remembered the way he used to treat you, he leaned over, burying his face in you neck as if trying to hide from his own embarrassment.

“Jesse? One drink and you're already misbehaving? At least get a girl tipsy before you start making moves on her.” You laughed, patting the cowboy's head as he muttered into your neck.

“I love you.” Leaning back, the look Jesse gave you was sincere, his eyes soft as they looked into yours.

“I love you too, scruffy.” You replied with a warm smile, giving his beard a soft tug before downing your drink. Jesse chuckled, tossing back his whiskey before waving over the bartender for more.

As the cowboy talked to the bartender, asking about various drinks, you glanced over his shoulder, noticing a group of men that eyed you from a booth. There were four of them, gruff men who had known years of hard labor. You recognized them from around town, one of them even attended your church. You were pretty sure all of them had been a year or two above you and Jesse in school. Shrugging them off, you turned back to find a new drink placed in front of you. Jesse watched you expectantly, eyes alight with mischief.

“What is this?” You asked, picking up the drink to inspect it.

“Just try it.” Smirking, Jesse watched you, a coy eagerness expressed in his features. You didn't trust it.

“Jesse McCree, are you trying to drug me?” your voice was playful, lids heavy as you gave him a seductive look you knew got the man's motor running. “Going to drag me to some back alley and have your way with me?” Faking indignance, Jesse leaned back, hand over his heart as if wounded.

“You think so low of me, darlin'.” His eyes flashed with spirit before he leaned in to whisper hot air in your ear. “And ‘sides. If I wanted to have my way with you, I'd just drag you off to the bathroom right now. Drunk or not. And make sure the whole bar could hear just how good I make you feel.” You tried to hide your blush, the cowboy smirking as he watched you search for words. Jesse always knew how to charm you out of your guard, even after all this time.

“Shush.” You finally managed, pulling his hat down over his face. Jesse gave a hearty chuckle as he leaned back in his stool, almost tipping it over. You briefly noticed the men looking over again, but thought nothing of it. With the cowboy's loud laugh, most people were looking at the two of you now.

“Just try it for me, sweetheart.” Jesse's coxing voice brought you back to him. Eyeing the drink, you decided to give the man what he wanted.

Tipping the glass back, you downed half the glass. The taste was strong, cinnamon, almost like apple pie. You didn't taste the alcohol, but you felt it. Felt it warm in your belly, felt the tingle in your throat. It wasn't bad, but you could tell it was strong. Your face warmed, body settling as you enjoyed the relaxing feeling that washed over you.

“Well?” Raising a brow, Jesse already knew you liked it, but persisted to make you admit it aloud. 

Maybe it was the alcohol, or the slight arousal you had suffered at his earlier comment, but you couldn't help but admire how handsome the cowboy was.He was rugged, his features hardened by years of battle and hardship, but there was a light that shone from within him, bright and warm and lively. A soul that couldn't be tamed. If the west could take the form of a man, it would be Jesse McCree. Wild and formidable and full of struggle, yet so full of natural beauty and a free spirit. You loved him. God, you loved him. You knew, just like the west, you could never fully have him to yourself. But to share these moments with this unequaled man, you would bear any amount of loneliness, as long as you knew he was coming back to you.

“It's good.” You admitted, nudging his shoulder as a knowing smile stretched across his face.

“Told you.” Returning to his own drink, Jesse maintained his grin, sipping at his whiskey as he watched you out of the corner of his eye. You loved the way he looked at you, undressing your soft body with his eyes, thinking about all the things he was going to do to you that night, picturing the way you moaned for him that morning.

“Well if it ain't Jesse McCree. Never thought I'd see you in here again.” Your moment was interrupted as a large hand clapped down on the cowboy's back.  
Looking behind him, you came face to face with the four men that had been eyeing you since you walked in. Raising a brow, Jesse gave the men a questioning look.

“Do I know you.” He really had no memory for faces. The ma that had spoken up looked slightly annoyed, but smiled despite it.

“John Miller. From school.” Jesse furrowed his brows, still not recognizing them as he thought back to his school days. “We used to have some... run ins. Down at the river.” Smacking his hand down on the table, you and the four men jumped as the cowboy sat up straighter.

“That's right. We used to get into scraps all the time. I can't believe you're still living round here.” With a smile on his face, Jesse regarded the other welcomingly, confusing the men with his energy.

“I could say the same about you. No one hated this town more than you.” Chuckling, the cowboy gave a shrug, unbothered by the men.

“Yeah, well, there wasn't much I was fond of when I was young. But that's in the past.” Taking another sip of his drink, the men looked at him incredulously.

“You know, you caused a lot of trouble around here. Can't say you are exactly welcomed around these parts.” You were very aware of how the men loomed over Jesse, not paying any attention to you. Glancing around, it seemed everyone else in the bar had taken note of the interaction as well, waiting through side glances for whatever was to come.

“Listen, I'm sorry for whatever happened between us back then. We were all young. Lets leave it in the past.”

“You got me expelled, McCree.” One of the men piped up, his disdain worn clearly on his face as he glared at Jesse. “My old man beat me something fierce for a week because of you.”

“Listen, I'm not here for a fight.” Jesse seemed relaxed as he rested against the bar, but the look in his eyes was dangerous. “How about I buy you boys a drink and we all have a good night.”

“A drink ain't going to make right what you did to us.” The more aggressive man took a step closer, the leader of the group eyeing him over his shoulder before his eyes fell on you.

“Maybe it's best if you leave ma'am. This man ain't the kind of company you want anyway.”

“I think I'll stay, if it's all the same.” You weren't sure what was about to happen, but you weren't about to leave Jesse's side. Even the once jovial men playing poker had stilled, waiting to see how this played out.

“Ma'am, this ain't the kind of thing I want to involve a woman in. I'd hate to see you end up hurt because of this lowlife.” It wasn't a threat, wasn't meant to scare you. He was sincere in his concern, not wanting to upset you or risk your safety.

Pulling out his money, Jesse threw some bills out on the counter, enough to pay for your drinks as he sighed.

“If it's that big of an issue, we'll leave. I told you, I'm not looking for a fight.” Before Jesse could stand, the angriest of the men spoke up, eyes staring straight at you.

“Hey! I remember her. She used to follow Jesse around everywhere. His little slut puppy.” With that, Jesse was bolt out of his chair, fist coming up under the man's jaw with unimaginable force. The man was knocked flat on his ass, out cold.

Everything went wild after that, Jesse and the remaining three men becoming a mess of fists and swings. The cowboy dispensed another man with ease, but as the bar sprang to life, more men came to join the fray, feeling loyalty to the men, still seeing Jesse as an outsider. Despite his skill, Jesse was overwhelmed. One of the larger men managed to wrestle Jesse into a choke hold, securing him as one of the original men began to wail on him. The cowboy let out a groan as the man's fist connected with his gut.

Jumping up on the counter, glass in hand, you brought it down hard across the man's skull, shattering on impact. You hissed at the sharp sting that shot through your hand, blood dripping onto the bar as the man that held Jesse hit the floor. Small shards of glass remained embedded in your palm, the alcohol adding a painful burn. Taking the opportunity, Jesse punched out the man in front of him before turning to look at you, concern etched into his face. At the sight of your blood soaked hand, Jesse visibly paled.

“McCree! You bastard!” Looking over, the last remaining member of the original four stood, large knife brandished. You knew he didn't want to, but you could see Jesse's right hand twitch, a sure sight that he was about to go for his gun. He wasn't about to risk your safety.

Suddenly, a man jumped into the fray, sucker punching the man before forcing him to the ground, stomping the knife out of the man's hand. You were surprised when the man looked up at the two of you, giving a weak smile. You recognized him immediately, Mark.

“Hey, McCree.” He said awkwardly, clearly never having been in a fight before.

“Johnson? What are you doing here.” Jesse remarked, awe struck at his rescuer.

“Looked like you were having fun. Thought I'd join in.” In his mind, you were sure Mark pictured himself sounding cool, but his voice had a slight shake to it.

The other men were more hesitant to continue things at the new comers appearance. Many of them were friends with the young engineer, customers of his. But luckily for them, and everyone involved, the owner walked out, the sound of his shotgun loading stopping everyone in their tracks.

“Now that's enough of that.” No one argued. “Mark, I think it's time you and your friends leave.”

“I would agree.” Nodding, Mark stood, straightening himself before helping you down from the bar top.

Without another word, the three of you took your leave. No one made a move to follow you, letting things end there. Maybe it was because of Mark's involvement, maybe it was because Jesse had proven himself more than formidable, either way, you were glad things were ending. Soon enough you found yourselves on the sidewalk.

Taking your bleeding hand in his, Mark inspected the damage. You winced as he splayed your palm out, turning your hand to check how bad the wound was.

“It looks pretty superficial. I have a first aid kit at my shop. I can fix you up there.” Mark's shop was just down the street, not a long walk. Jesse put his arm around you, but didn't argue, more concerned with getting you taken care of then petty jealousy.  
In a short while, you were seated on Mark's work bench, the man tweezing small shards of glass out of your flesh. Jesse stood at your side, hands alternating between holding yours and rubbing over your shoulders and back. Despite his years of combat, Jesse felt extremely antsy at seeing you injured in such a way.

“Thank you for your help Mark. I owe you.” He offered you a friendly smile, generous as always.

“No worries. Livened up my poker night.”

“Do you need a ride home? I'm sure you don't want to walk home after tonight.” As he finished bandaging up your hand, Mark got up to wash his own.

“No. Thank you though. Alice was planning on picking me up at 9 anyway.” As he dried his hands, Jesse looked between the two of you, confused.

“Who's Alice?” The cowboy asked.

“My wife.” Mark explained, remembering that Jesse had never met his beloved.

“You're married? Since when?” Astonished, Jesse looked at you as if he both doubted what Mark said and thought you had withheld this information. You hadn't thought about it, hadn't ever stopped to think that Jesse was unaware of Mark's marital status. It had been so long ago. Jesse hadn't been yours then.

“Ten years ago as of last month actually.” Mark stated, fighting back a chuckle as Jesse remained awestruck. “Hang on, I got pictures.” Whipping out his phone, Mark quickly pulled up pictures of their latest family vacation.

His wife was beautiful, blond and slender as she played in the sand with their youngest son. Their other children, an eight year old boy and a daughter that looked six played with a beach ball. They all looked so happy, the picture perfect family. Mark glowed as he showed off his children, rattling off their accomplishments and skills in music.

You both jumped as Jesse let out a roaring laugh, doubling over as he struggled for breath. How many times had he worried about you and Mark. How many times had the thought persisted that you may have retained your feelings for the man. How many times had he staved off the idea that the established engineer could give you everything he never could. And now, come to find out, Mark hadn't been a threat for some time now. Jesse may not have known the man intimately, but he knew he didn't have it in him to cheat.

“Well, anyway.” Mark continued, leading you both towards the front awkwardly, embarrassed at his gushing and the cowboy's amusement, not understanding it. “I better get back to the bar, Alice will be waiting for me.” Locking the door, you all said your goodbyes, Jesse giving Mark a hearty handshake and a glowing smile before the man left you. As you watched your old friend fade into the dark of the night, the cowboy continued to chuckle.

“And just what is so funny?” Turning towards the man, you couldn't help the warmth that grew in your heart, though you hid it behind an aura of scolding, hands on your hips as you raised a brow at the man. Seeing your expression, Jesse continued to laugh, eyes twinkling as he put his arm around your shoulder. Maybe it was the slight buzz he still had, or the great mood this newfound knowledge had put him in, but Jesse was completely honest when he answered you.

“I just feel a bit silly, worrying all this time that there might still be something between you two.” You were surprised by his admittance, unsure what to say in response. It wasn't his confession that surprised you, but the way he said it, like it was no longer a problem, like that worry had ended tonight. You smiled, letting the silence settle as you wrapped an arm around him, starting to walk towards your car. In the stillness, Jesse thought on his words before he voiced them.

“What ever happened between you two?” Honestly, you were a little surprised it had taken him this long to ask that question. Memories flashed through your head, filled with strong emotions and struggling conflict.

“Well, after I rejected his proposal, the relationship pretty much died.” Stopping in his tracks, the motion of your walking pulling you out of his grasp as you turned to look at him.

“He purposed?” You winced at the look in his eyes. Jesse studied your face as if looking for a hint of humor, a trace of a joke.

“Yeah. Two years after you visited me at my parents.” You replied, not sure what else to say.

“But you said no?” You nodded, words escaping you. “Why?” eyes disbelieving, he seemed unsure as he waited for your answer. “He could have given you everything. Why did you say no?”

You thought about it, trying to form your feelings into words better than you could back then.

“I liked Mark, he was a great guy. He would have made a great husband, given me a good life. But I was hesitant to marry him. I felt like I was pressured into that kind of relationship by my parents. Maybe a part of our relationship had always been like that. What my parents wanted. But one day, I thought to myself, 'If I marry Mark, who will be waiting at the door when Jesse comes home?'. So I told him I couldn't marry him.”

It was as if he was seeing you for the first time in years. The laugh lines beginning to form around your lips, the wrinkles around your eyes. The light in your eyes had softened with time. You had waited your youth away for him, giving up your chance at marriage, a family, a normal life, for him. Your whole adult life could be summed up in a series of a few visits. You had put everything on pause for him, and as the weight of this realization came to him, Jesse felt a vice clamping around his heart. You were in his arms before you realized it.

“I love you.” the cowboy mumbled, kissing all over your face. “I love you. I love you. I love you so goddamn much.” The slight tremor to his hands did not go unnoticed by you. “I'm so sorry. You've given up so much for me. I swear, I'll never take you for granted again. Let me spend the rest of my life making it up to you. You've waited so long. Let me make it worth it.” Arms tight around you, his lips wandered your face and neck, so full of affection the cowboy didn't know what to do with himself. “Let me prove I can be a man that deserves you.” Wriggling your arms up, you grabbed the back of his neck, holding him still so you could take his lips, attempting to bring him down.

“You already are, Jesse. You always have been.”


End file.
